Observations: Aftermath
by M-15 Vindicator
Summary: The Normandy has been downed by the blast from the Crucible and now the crew must not only put the ship back together but come to terms with what's happened and pick up the pieces. Epilogue to Observations. Spoilers for Extended Cut.
1. Aftermath

_Mass Effect is BioWare's baby and toy box...I'm just sitting in the corner, having fun and making no money_

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'It's good to hear the Normandy made it Major.' Hackett's voice crackled over the comms as the QEC buzzed with interference. Specialist Traynor tutted, embarrassed and annoyed that she hadn't ironed out all the kinks in the entanglement like she said she would. Major Alenko had reassured her that as long as something got through, it was ok. Any word was better than no word at all.

It had been three days since the Normandy had literally fallen out of the sky on some unknown planet. The blast wave from the Crucible had hit the Normandy hard, it had fried a lot of the ships systems but worse than that, the energy wave had completely burnt out EDI. She just collapsed when the wave hit the ship in FTL and any and all attempts to resort power to her had met with failure. It had shocked the whole crew yet what had worried Major Alenko even more, but he hadn't said anything, was Liara's reports that her VI, Glyph, had stopped working too. Not to mention Garrus complaining about discomfort and lack of movement in parts of his face...namely the side in which he had taken a rocket too while on Omega, the side that he had cybernetics in. It didn't take a technical genius to put two and two together and come up with a pretty good explanation of why EDI had gone down.

What did you do Shepard? Was all Kaidan could think of at this news. But it was still early days and so he'd kept his thoughts to himself, rather than spook the crew, especially Joker...he was taking EDI's death hard.

'It's good to hear you're still alive too, Admiral.' Major Alenko replied crisply. 'We've been trying to raise anyone on our comms...but the buoys...it's like they're just not there anymore. And we can't raise Earth on the QEC either.'

Hackett's reply was stolen by static and everyone that was crammed into the comms room grew nervous. They were all in there for any shred of news of what had happened. Were the Reapers defeated? Did the fleet survive? Was Earth still standing? What had happened when the Crucible fired? And most importantly...was Shepard still alive?

'Can you repeat that Admiral?' Kaidan said, trying his best to keep his voice level.

'The comm buoys have been shorted out by the Crucible blast wave. They're damaged but intact. We've been fixing them as we find them Major, rebuilding the network to get the word out.'

'The word?' Liara butted in, anxious.

'That the Reapers have been destroyed.'

Everyone in the comms room cheered and the Admiral managed a smile to hear it. He'd heard similar things from every ship he'd managed to contact.

'But there's still much left to be done.' Hackett told them after the cheering had subsided. 'The energy released from the Crucible was intense and caused a lot of damage. Like with the comm buoys, the Relays have been damaged but our techs and engineers say they can be repaired, but it's going to take time.'

A hush fell over the comms room.

'We've also been getting reports that VIs have stopped working on the ships that have them and no one has been able to contact any geth ships. The few quarian ships we've managed to cross paths with have also reported failures in cybernetics amongst their people. Has the Normandy suffered any such failures?'

Kaidan cleared his throat, a little nervous of what to say, after all, EDI had been a full blown, unshackled AI. Although the Normandy crew had accepted her, he had no idea how much others knew of her existence. Plus, there were the feelings of the crew to consider too. Everyone had looked upon EDI has either a friend or a comrade; it would cheapen her life were he to be disrespectful.

'Yes Admiral, there had been.' Was all he chose to say.

Hackett nodded in a knowing fashion 'What is the Normandy's current status, Major?'

'The ship itself is more or less intact. The hull plates need to be repaired to make her space-worthy, but the inner hull itself hasn't been breached. A lot of our systems have been fried, but are repairable. But again, they're both going to take time, but we have a helluva crew here and the Normandy will be up and ready in no time.'

'Good, the sooner you can rejoin the fleet, the sooner we can get back to Earth.'

'Any news from Earth, Admiral?' Lieutenant Vega piped up.

'A little. The QEC on Earth is suffering from a similar interference problem as this one is...but the effect of the interference is much worse. Possibly due to its proximity to the Crucible blast. That's how we know the Reapers have been destroyed.'

'Has there been any word from Shepard?' Kaidan suddenly blurted out.

'No Major, there hasn't. She was aboard the Citadel when the Crucible was activated. Hell, she was the one that set it off. The Citadel almost blew itself apart when it fired.'

The room was silent for a moment, before a dry sob came from Tali.

'Do you think there's a chance she might've survived?' Kaidan asked the question everyone was thinking but his voice sounded hollow.

Hackett seemed to ponder the reply for a moment. Although the Admiral didn't know the complete ins and outs of the relationship between the Commander and Major Alenko, he had read the reports of the original Normandy mission and the fraternization that had gone on between them. He had also seen how the Commander had looked and spoken when she had reported that Major Alenko had been hurt on Mars. Then there was the rejection of his offer of a post in the fleet to Major Alenko in favour of serving aboard the Normandy.

'I don't know Major. The Citadel is in ruins and it's going to take teams weeks to dig through the rubble. If she somehow managed to survive the blast...I'm not sure she could hold out long enough for the rescue teams to get to her. I'm sorry.'

Kaidan said nothing, merely nodded.

'Get the Normandy back up and running Major, we need you and your crew back with us. We've got a galaxy to rebuild. Hackett out.'


	2. Kaidan

'I don't know Major. The Citadel is in ruins and it's going to take teams weeks to dig through the rubble. If she somehow managed to survive the blast...I'm not sure she could hold out long enough for the rescue teams to get to her. I'm sorry.'

Hackett's words rattled around in Kaidan's head as if simply hearing them had emptied out his brain and wouldn't let anything else back in. He knew there was always a distinct possibly that Shepard could die...hell any one of them could've died a million times over in this fight, but they hadn't. The crew had stuck together and the squads always watched each backs. Shepard had saved his life on a number of occasions since his return to the Normandy, and many more times before that and he had returned the favour himself both to her and the others.

But Shepard didn't have her squad with her at the end. She'd left without them, alone. She had sent them back aboard the Normandy and told them to go, to get to safety while she risked her life to save them all. He had begged her to let him stay by her side, it didn't matter that he'd been bleeding everywhere from shrapnel wounds, it didn't matter that he could barely stand on his own two feet because of the pain. None of that mattered, only her. Only Shepard matter to him and he would've gladly given his life in return for hers.

'No matter what happens, know that I love you...always.'

He saw her face, her voice momentarily pushing out the words of Hackett and her death. She had looked so beautiful in that moment. So what that he was hurt, that she was battered and bruise, that people were dying all around them and the Reapers were coming to kill them all. In that moment, looking at Commander Freya Shepard, Kaidan had never felt more in love with her or more alive.

'Get the Normandy back up and running Major, we need you and your crew back with us. We've got a galaxy to rebuild. Hackett out.'

The hologram of Hackett disappeared, along with the lambent glow that the QEC, but Kaidan barely noticed it. He didn't see the faces of his friends as he roughly pushed them out of the way to get out of that room. It was crowded, stifling, and he needed to get out of there. He didn't notice Liara step forward to follow him, her hand about to reach out and touch his shoulder. Nor did he notice Garrus stopping her with a shake of his head, Tali cradled beside him as she quietly wept at the news. It all passed in a blur as Hackett's voice returned in his head.

Nobody stopped him; nobody said a word as he stormed passed them. The crew of the Normandy knew their jobs, they knew what they had to do, and they saw that disturbing the Major was not a good idea at that time. No doubt the gossip of what was said would reach all their ears soon enough, if they hadn't heard already...but for the moment, Major Kaidan Alenko wanted nothing more than alone.

Everything had happened so fast in the end. They'd punched through the Reaper lines, taken down a Destroyer and ran for the beam to the Citadel under a barrage of fire from a Reaper he'd heard referred to as Harbinger. He'd vaguely remember reading Shepard's reports of such a Reaper during her time with Cerberus and had found it almost amusing that the Reaper bent on stopping the Commander was the same one she had foiled when she'd destroyed the Collector base. The galaxy wasn't without a sense of irony.

Then...pain. A Mako had been hit right in front of the squad. Shepard had torn away from him and Garrus when they ran. He always marvelled at how fast she was, she was a Vanguard after all and it suited her so well. She had hit the slope at speed and they were having trouble keeping up with her, in truth it had saved both their lives. The tank had flipped and the pair had dived out of its path. Garrus had been burned by the blast, Kaidan recalled the smell of burnt armour, but he hadn't faired so well. He remembered the look of concern when Shepard had picked him up and got him into cover, ripping off her helm and flinging it away. He had sat and wondered how she'd ever find it again in all the debris...she'd probably need it aboard the Citadel.

He stood by the window of the Observation lounge, his usual haunt. Although the view was obscured by plant life, in his mind's eye he still saw a star-filled field that had given his some comfort when he had thought of those that he had left behind on Earth upon rejoining the Normandy. But now it brought little comfort.

'Be careful.'

They had been his last words to her. And although they were a little more thoughtful that saying 'Aye aye' to her aboard the original Normandy, it pained him that he hadn't said more, or at least something more meaningful than just 'Be careful'. After all, when they had spoken last, Shepard had never mentioned defeat. Fear, determination, love but not defeat...almost like by simply refusing to accept it, she could deny it. Even when he had tried to say goodbye to her in London, she had refused to accept it. Instead telling him what when it was over she'd be waiting for him and that he better show up. Her conviction had been contagious, but he still had to make sure things that needed to be said were...but not everything. He had held back something, feeling it would jinx everything if he had asked. After all, it had only been a few months, but the time they had spent together had almost made his head swim. But now...now...

The nearest bookcase exploded. Pages and binding went flying everywhere as if huge force had hit the content and flung it across the room like an angry child.

It was too much. It was too much to believe. Too much to even think about. No. She couldn't be dead. Not again. I can't have lost her. She can't be dead like she was three years ago. No. She said she'd wait for me.

The chairs flipped as if they had been punched by an invisible assailant, crashing into the wall and buckling as if crushed by a giant fist.

No. She can survive. She has to survive. She must survive, I told her I couldn't lose her again. I won't lose her again. She saved my life. I saved hers. She told me she'd always love me. I said I loved her. The crew need her. The galaxy needs her. I need her.

The other bookcase seemed to crumble as if a weight had been dropped on it. The shelves folded in on each other and the books it held were catapulted outwards at high speed.

She sent me away. Just like she did back on the original Normandy before the Collectors blew it up. She told me to go while the world turned to fire around us. She ordered me to go. She made sure I was safe before she gave her life for her crew, for her friends, for me. She did that on Earth too. She ordered me to leave, to get away, and to be safe while she sacrificed herself. She died alone.

The light fittings popped and fizzed as the fittings gave way. Sparks and glass rained down from the ceiling as the panels seemed to heave and groan, like the content of the room had expanded to the point where it might burst.

She left me behind...again. And she died...alone.

It was like a bubble burst in the Observations Lounge and all the debris was blown outwards from a central point. And at the heart of it all stood Major Kaidan Alenko. It had been a very long time since he'd lost control like that. Since his emotions had overridden his conscious self and lashed out with his biotics. It had only happened once...when he was a teenager and someone had died because of it. Now it happened because someone had died. Not since BAaT had he used his biotics in rage and anger rather than defence, protection and preservation. Not since Rahna had be loved someone so much that it physically pained him to see them get hurt. And not since those years when he went off the grid after training had been shut down did he feel so utterly alone in the galaxy.

He looked around and laughed at what he had done. Though there was no mirth in his laughter. It bubbled up inside of him for a moment at the power he had unleashed, not caring about the consequences of his actions. But it didn't last.

His knees seemed to fold underneath him and he dropped to the deck and there, sat amongst the devastation he had caused, Major Kaidan Alenko buried his head in his hands and wept for the woman he had lost.

'No matter what happens, know that I love...always.'


	3. Tali

No one had gone up to The Loft since the Normandy had crashed. In fact, it felt very much like everyone was avoiding it altogether. There was a distinct air of neglect in the small passage way from the door that hit Tali hard when she stepped out on the elevator, despite the fact that it only literally been days since it had been last used by its owner.

It had taken Tali quite some time to pluck up the courage to go up there. It felt like disturbing the dead to do it and put her in mind of stories some of the older children on the Rayya used to tell about abandoned ships found floating in space, haunted by the ghosts of its crew. They were just scary stories, for the most part, told for fun to frighten the younger children. However, Tali had clambered through derelict ships before, both with Shepard and with others, and she understood where such stories might come from.

The door was unlocked, Shepard never locked her door, or at least Tali had never known the Commander too...though she often speculated she did when she was with Kaidan. But Tali still hovered on the threshold when the door slid open, almost wary to step into the room without permission. She was quarian, she understood privacy or the lack of it and so had always deeply respected the personal space of those on the Normandy and had never entered someone's quarters without express permission...until now.

The Loft was in quite a state. The crash had fractured the glass in Shepard's fish tank and the water had leaked out and was starting to go stagnant due to the warmer atmosphere. Life support had been reactivated, but was running on minimum to conserve energy until the engine core was back up and running and was mostly on through the night, when the temperature dropped. It also meant that the fish within the tank were dead, lying motionless in the last dregs of water that remained within the tank itself. It was awful...more life lost to this war, even if they were just fish.

Tali had been astounded at the fish tank when she had first seen it. All that space and water wasted on a needless extravagance. The human ship had always perplexed and thrilled her, much like its crew. They were a close knit community, like on the flotilla, but there was a distinct formality about how they interacted...probably because it was their place of work more than their home. Only Joker seemed to think of the Normandy as something more than hull plates and an engine block. She sighed when she thought of Joker. He had lost EDI, and although Tali herself had not really seen EDI has a close friend, she was an AI and Tali found she was naturally weary around her, but she had come to value EDI has a crew member and fellow tech expert, and so had felt her loss too. But not as deeply as she felt Shepard's.

Movement off to her right caught her attention. It was in her peripheral vision, but she had caught it, swinging her head around to spy the sources of the movement. Again, it was something that had vexed Tali at first, but it had become as much a part of the cabin as the fish tank. It was Shepard's hamster. His cage had been dislodged from the shelf and he had survived the fall within it. The little creature was now living free within the cabin.

She laughed a little as tears welled up in her eyes as she watched the hamster scuttle across the desk to lick the condensation on the wall. He had managed to survive, against all odds when the rest of the beings that called his cabin home had not.

Sloshing through the mess, Tali picked up the hamster's tank and empted the water out of it. She'd have to clean it out and dry it before she could put him back in. Taking another look at the fuzzy rodent, she nodded to him and grabbed a hand full of food from the shelf and put a pile on the desk, he looked hungry, before slipping into the bathroom to clean the tank.

There was dirty washing in the laundry basket in the bathroom, Tali noted. Mostly Shepard's training gear and uniform but there, there was one of Kaidan's t-shirts. Keelah! It was surreal to see something like this. A pile of dirty clothes, just waiting to be washed, as if their owner was going to come in, apologise for the mess and take them to get cleaned. Such ordinary things that reminded her that Shepard was gone and those clothes would always stay dirty, unless someone else cleaned them. And then what?

Tali sighed. She missed Shepard. She missed her terribly. She remembered how she felt when she had been told that Shepard had gone down with the original Normandy. It felt like she'd been punched in the gut. Shepard had been her friend. She had saved her life on the Citadel and had welcomed Tali into the crew of the Normandy. And Tali had believed in her and her quest to stop Saren and the geth.

Tali remembered being weary of the Commander at first, but Shepard had been very kind and open with Tali and had seemed genuinely interesting in what the young quarian had to say and defended her against some of the other, more pushy members of the crew. It had been the Commander that had pulled and held the squad together, as desperate as they were, and they defeated Saren together. Then, on the cusp of their victory, Shepard had been snatched away. Killed by the Collectors...but worst of all, her sacrifice had been cheapened by the Council and their lies.

The tank now clean and dry, Tali returned to the main cabin and put it down on the desk. The hamster had disappeared and she suddenly realised that she had no idea if the rodent even had a name, if it came when it was called or even how to catch it. In fact, she didn't really have any idea what it was, or how it should be looked after, more to the point. Quarian's never really had pets, at least not living ones. Tali remembered one of the Rayya crew had obtained a dog-mech from somewhere and the children had loved the novelty of it. But in the end, if had been stripped down for parts.

'Little fuzzy brown thing.' She called out, searching the desk for it. Tali also noted that most of Shepard's model ships had been destroyed. They lay in pieces on the bottom of the cabinets, all except one...the model of Sovereign. That was pretty much still in one piece and the thought of it made Tali shudder, like it was some sort of omen.

The ship models were something Shepard had started to collect when they had worked for Cerberus. They were another of the Commander's strange editions to the cabin that didn't make a great deal of sense to Tali at first. But now she came to realise they were an expression of the Commander. They were her mark upon the room. Much like the coloured fabrics that the quarians were so fond of for making their own patch of space exactly that: their own. The ships, the fish, even the hamster were all parts of Shepard. And they were all damaged, broken or lost.

Tali deflated as she looked around again, taking in the cabin and the mess. There suddenly seemed so little of Shepard left in it. Her medals, old helmet and picture of Kaidan were long gone since Cerberus. Even the weird prothean artefact had made the room seem more like a home than just a room. The Loft was empty now, both physically and metaphorically.

The realisation was a painful one. Shepard was gone and it felt like Tali had lost a part of herself. After all, Shepard had become family to her. After her father had died and the Admiralty Board had tried to evict her from the Flotilla, Shepard had stood by and supported her and Tali had been proud to take the name _vas Normandy_ in honour of Shepard. She had been like a big sister to Tali and that thought had also brought her great comfort. But her sister was dead. She had died to save the galaxy and Tali was sure she had done it without hesitation. Much like she always did.

The hamster reappeared, as if drawn out to join Tali's mourning. She stretched out her hand and it sniffed her, unsure.

'We'll have to find someone to look after you now.' She told it. 'I don't know how. Got any ideas?'

It regarded her for a moment, but kept its council to itself. Tali laughed sadly.

'I thought not. But you can't stay here.'

In silence, Tali did what she could to prepare the cage and failed three times to catch the rodent, cursing a blue streak every time she missed. And when she finally did catch it, the little beast bit her.

'You bosh'tet!' she swore as she dropped it into the tank before it could escape again. It was a defiant one, like its master, Tali had thought once she saw it scuttle and hide from view.

She didn't see the hamster poke its head out again while she pumped out the water from floor and dried it. The fish were disposed of too and the clean uniforms of Shepard's were put back where they belonged. No doubt, in time someone from the Alliance would clear out this place and make it ready for its next inhabitant. Maybe it would be Kaidan, but Tali wasn't so sure he'd serve aboard of the Normandy without Shepard. Truth be told, she was exceptionally worried about Kaidan after what he'd done in the Observation Lounge. He was a nice man, and Tali had always got on well with him and she hated to see him so hurt and was scared that he might do something stupid. She'd asked Garrus to keep an eye on him, just in case.

And with a sigh, that was it. The Loft was as clean as she could get it. It smelt a little weird because of the water, but once the life support was turned back on properly, the smell would be scrubbed out of the air. All that was left was the broken ships, but they'd probably take longer to fix than the actual Normandy...but it was something she might do once they had fixed the ship. They should be kept to remind us all of her, she had thought.

'Come on little bosh'tet.' She said to the tank and she balanced it under one arm, Shepard's laundry in the other. 'Let's find you a home.' She bumped the door release with her elbow and took one last look at Shepard's domain.

'I'll not forget you Shepard. Never.' She whispered as the door slid shut.


	4. James

God it feels good to actually be doing something...finally!

Those were the thoughts of Lieutenant James Vega as he took a moment to take a sip from his canteen. It had been a long few days since the crash and everyone had been working madly on trying to get the communications working on the ship, and not being particularly technically minded, James had found himself floating around the ship with nothing to do but think.

Many would say that he wasn't much of a thinker, but they were wrong. Yeah, he cultivated a distinct no-bullshit air about him, and that's because he had no time for it. But he was still human too and things weighed upon him, just like everyone else. Only he didn't walk the corridors weeping about it. His thoughts were his own and he liked to keep it that way. It made things a lot less complicated in the long run...until Shepard.

'Of all the planets to land on, this one isn't so bad.' He had heard Private Campbell say that...or was it Westmoreland. James often found that he couldn't remember which was which. He'd never seen them apart from each other and they were always referred to together. Well, it was the one that didn't fancy him that had said it...so, probably Campbell.

'Yeah, but it ain't Earth either.' He had replied and said nothing more, going back to what he was doing.

The marines had been digging the Normandy out for the last three days. There hadn't many of them aboard the ship to start with, and anyone who knew one end of a spanner from the other had been co-opted in crawling around in the guts of the ship to fix it. And for those who didn't...they got to experience the delights of the outside world with some sort of improvised shovel and got to shift the piles of earth the Normandy had dived into when she had crashed. And in all that time, all James could think about was Shepard.

Commander Freya Shepard. Hero. Leader. Friend.

It had been hard for everyone to hear the news that she was probably dead. Some took it a lot harder than others, but James had merely grit his teeth and accepted it. It stank that Shepard had died to free the galaxy from the Reapers, but he knew the Commander would've done anything to defeat them too, even if the cost was her life. She was a bona fide hero like that. But the galaxy also seemed a little less bright now that she was gone. People needed a hero like Shepard. They needed that paragon of virtue to show them that there was something worth saving and worth fighting for. But she was gone now...a martyr for the cause. She would be remembered for what she had done...but even that felt hollow in comparison to the loss of the woman herself.

God it's hot out here!

The Doctor had warned James not to let his men stay out in the sun working too long, especially after the first day and having three keel over with heat stroke and most complaining of sunburn. He'd wondered what the hell was going on, but he'd found out a few were spacers and not used to the intense sunshine. Others were just not able to hack it, for whatever reason. So James had tried to heed the doctor's advice...but marines loved all their macho bullshit and so it became a contest as to who could stand the heat the longest.

With a grunt and a sigh, James peeled his t-shirt off and flung it down beside his canteen, flexing and rolling his shoulders and neck before returning to duties.

'I thought you had to actually be N7 trained before they allow you to wear the logo about your person. Have you been holding out on me all this time Mr. Vega?'

The voice caught him by surprise and he laughed when he turned to see Steve Cortez sitting on the hull, his welding visor pushed up to reveal a sweat and grim streaked face. He didn't envy Steve his job patching up the hull, not one bit.

'You know me Estaban...hidden depths.' He shot back with a grin. It looked like the Commander had been as good as her word when she said she wouldn't tell anyone he'd been accepted into the N7 training programme, and he couldn't help but feel a little pang of guilt when he thought of her.

'We all wondered what you'd gotten. In fact, a lot of us had been convinced it was going to say 'Lola' rather than 'Shepard', so that you won't get your ass kicked by Major Alenko when he found out you'd got his girlfriend's name tattooed on you back.'

James scoffed. 'I could take Alenko with one hand tied behind my back.'

There, another pang of guilt...he knew that Kaidan had a thing for Shepard from the start. Hell, when he'd finally met the guy, he almost had an 'I love Commander Shepard' sign in neon lights above his head. It was hard not to at least fancy the Commander; the woman was a damn pocket rocket, after all. Not to mention curves in all the right places and a pretty face too. But, as time had gone on, he'd discovered that whatever was between the Commander and the Major was something infinitely bigger than a fumble between the sheets for the two of them. And James had found that he'd grown a little jealous of the relationship they had. Yeah, he'd flirted with her from the word go, and she'd flirted back, but he respected her too much to try anything. Not to mention the regs that forbad such a thing. And the rumour that Shepard had broken such regs with her own Lieutenant and so had subsequently gained a bit of a reputation for being a man-eater, which James had quashed rapidly when he had heard it as it was clearly scandalous lies. Then there was the fact that she was a goddamn hero and that intimidated him more than he liked and would ever admit.

'Really? I think I'd pay to see that fight.' Steve teased back.

'Oh, I'm sure you'd love that show Steve.'

And uncomfortable silence descended between the two as the levity of the moment and the joke evaporated in the sunshine. James swallowed and shifted, suddenly aware of how much the death of Shepard had actually affected him. And it had, so much so that it almost seemed to have formed a bond with some of the other members of the crews...people who, before the message from Hackett, he had never really had much to do with, without the presence of Shepard. In fact, truth be told, he almost felt a sort of kinship had formed between himself and Kaidan when he'd walked in on the Major trying to tidy up the devastation he had caused in his grief.

James had said nothing as he surveyed the scene from the doorway, the Major looking expressly guilty, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. And uncomfortable silence, much like the one he was experiencing now had happened before he strode into the room and started to right one of the bookcases. James had felt sure Kaidan would've protested, but he merely asked if the Major would grab the other end so he could put it against the wall. He could've shifted it himself...but it had been a delicate moment and, despite any and all evidence to the contrary...Lieutenant James Vega was not without tact or actually human feelings.

'It's in memory of her now, isn't it?' Steve said quietly, breaking James's reverie.

'Huh?'

'The tattoo...I suspect the reason you got it originally was something else but now...now you wear it for her, don't you?'

James's shoulders sagged as he looked to at Steve. He knew all about loss and grief so it was pointless trying to deny it.

'Would you believe me if I said no?' he asked in a half hearted manner, suddenly ashamed that he cared so much for a woman who had loved someone else.

Steve merely nodded with understanding that made James feel both better and worse.

'I'll do her proud.' he declared out loud after a moment.

'I know you will James.' Steve replied and before flipping his mask back down he grinned. 'And I totally would pay to watch you and Kaidan beating the crap out of each other.'

James laughed. 'Always knew you couldn't resist me forever!' he called out and gained an obscene gesture back.

'I'll do you proud Lola!' he said to himself once more and returned to his digging.


	5. Traynor

'Hmm?' Specialist Traynor looked up, she hadn't been listening. For a few moments she'd been so caught up in her own thoughts that she had completely missed what Diana had said.

'I said: Do you know if Shepard gave him a name?' she nodded to the hamster in the cage as it shovelled food into its cheeks. Traynor had been watching it when her mind had wandered.

'Oh! No...no, I don't. Sorry.' She replied a little shamefaced.

This reminded her that there was much about the Commander that she didn't know, and now she never would. It was sad to think on such things. Although Traynor had only been active crew aboard the Normandy for only a little while, everyone had made her feel welcome and a part of something bigger than herself. She had never been at the thick end of what the Alliance did; it had been both a thrilling and terrifying experience. And Shepard had been there for her with words of encouragement, a sympathetic ear and a witty smile. Traynor couldn't deny that she had become rather smitten with the Commander too, it was hard not to at least admire her for all she had achieved, plus she was a very pretty woman too. Traynor blushed a little at the thought. But, in the end, it was never meant to be and Traynor had accepted that when she had made discreet observations. Not to mention that things hadn't gone to plan during their chess game. But it hadn't affected their friendship...in fact, Traynor herself had started to wonder if the Commander was even aware of the crush she had had, because if she had, she gave no sign.

And then there was EDI. Although EDI had been an AI, Traynor had always viewed her as something more than just computer chips and circuit boards. She remembered the conversations she used to have with EDI during the refit...it was obvious that she wasn't a simple VI like she claimed. This had intrigued Traynor greatly, though she had no real expertise in AI...or more specifically EDI herself intrigued Traynor. She had a sharp mind and a cutting wit but a childlike innocence and wonder seemed to obliterate anything negative or malicious that could've sprouted from EDI's interactions. She hadn't become like the geth...in fact, when Traynor reviewed the mission on Rannoch, in the end, the geth had become more like her. But, like the Commander, EDI was gone. She knew that the Engineers were working hard to try and get EDI back, but Traynor couldn't help be feel it was a fool's errand, though she'd helped Gabby in what ways she could, any chance she got.

'Ah, ok. I just thought, because you were friends with the Commander you might've known.' Allers replied. Traynor looked at her, concern dancing across her face. The normally bubbly reporter that she had come to know just wasn't there right now. It made her worried.

'Maybe you could ask Garrus or Tali if they know, I would've suggested Major Alenko as he was the one who was 'most friendly' with the Commander...but' she left the sentence hanging. They'd all heard the rumours about Kaidan and Shepard, and Allers had sworn she'd heard them at it in the Observation Lounge after the mission on Rannoch. But they'd also heard about what he'd done after the message from Hackett about Shepard's death. Traynor had been shocked when she heard what the Admiral had said and she had hoped that the Commander had died quickly rather than suffered a slow, lingering death trapped in the rubble. It made her shudder to think about it. And then there was the Major's reaction. He had always seemed so taciturn, especially in comparison to the more raucous James and the fiery Commander. He was a consummate officer. But when most of the senior staff had played poker together, during some downtime on the ship and Traynor had been invited, she had noticed that he was a naturally calm and collected person when not on duty. So to hear about him going off the edge...she tried not to think about it.

She tried not to think about a lot of things right now. So much death, so much loss. Even aboard the ship and everyone seemed to have their own way of dealing with it. Major Alenko had become almost silent when not on duty. Joker had become morose and moody, snapping at people who tried to show their concern for him or their sorrow at all he had lost.

'Well, Tali'Zorah did call him something when she left him...but I think it was a swear word.'

Traynor felt herself grin when she thought about what Diana had said, glad of the simple distraction of conversation, and the greater distraction of the company she was in.

'Bosh'tet?' she asked.

Allers nodded and Traynor couldn't help but chuckle.

'I didn't know you spoke quarian.'

It was Allers turn to grin in return.

'There's a lot you don't know about me Samantha.' She retorted and giggled along with Traynor until the levity was gone.

It felt odd to laugh at such a time. Especially when laugher was something that felt like it was needed too. The galaxy was saved and the future was brighter than it had ever been now the Reapers were gone. But at what cost?

Again, Traynor thought of Shepard. That was a high cost in and of itself. EDI's death had compounded matters even more because she was unique. But, despite the fact she was a hero and EDI was a know new form of like, they were still just two people in a galaxy of trillions. Everyone had lost someone, in some way, shape or form. And some had lost everything. She looked at Diana. She had lost everything, although she knew the reporter did her best to hide the pain she felt.

Traynor knew that Allers was a colony kid, much like she was. Although she had grown up in Alliance Space whereas Traynor herself and grown up in the Terminus Systems. They had led very different lives because of it, and yet they both took pride in where they were from. Diana had been a comfort to her when the Normandy had returned to Horizon, her home, and they had discovered what had happened there. Traynor had felt herself almost devastated that her homeworld could be so cursed but the Reapers. And when she had found out that the colonies on Bekenstein has been destroyed, she noticed Diana had hardly mentioned it, and when she had, there was a bitterness in her voice, rather than sadness.

Traynor looked up at Diana and smiled before stepping close to the reporter and reaching up to slide her hand into Diana's, and gave a silent thanks that Allers hadn't pulled away at such a gesture. After all, Traynor had been hoping that their friendship might be more than what it initially seemed. They had grown close over the cause of the war but neither had pushed the other into anything more than an easy friendship. But, despite the fact that it felt like bad timing, everything was screaming at Traynor that she should make the first move.

She gave Diana's hand a gentle squeeze.

'I know...but I'd like to know you better. But only if you want me to.'

There was a moment of silence and Traynor felt her resolve waiver as the moment turned into two. Had she misjudged like she'd done with Shepard?

'Yeah Samantha, I think I'd like that.' Allers replied softly, reaching out to take Traynor's other than in hers and return the affectionate squeeze.

Specialist Samantha Traynor felt herself blushing but didn't have time to think about it as all her thoughts were completely overridden by the feeling of lips on hers. She responded more on instinct than on any form of conscious thought, leading into the kiss and taking a half step forward into the embrace. Her head spun and her heart fluttered, she'd not felt like this in a long time. Relationships weren't easy when you were in the Alliance...even if the regs weren't there to stop fraternisation...the fact that you were either constantly on the move, so busy you never had that much free time or both meant that finding anyone, let alone someone you were working with, exceptionally difficult.

When Diana's lips finally left hers, she couldn't stop herself from giggling, like she was a school girl again. She was glad that Diana took up the giggle too and had blushed at the turn of events. It may not last, Specialist Samantha Traynor thought to herself, but at least we have each other in these hard times. At least they had enough other to turn to when things got too much. There was so many that didn't and it hurt to think of them...but all she could think about now was the woman before her.

'Maybe you should name him then.' She said after the blushes and giggling had stopped.

Reporter Diana Allers thought for a moment and then nodded. 'Since I'm now his legal guardian, I just might. After all, I have to get to know him too.'

Traynor grinned. 'Should I be jealous?' she inquired in a mischievous manner. 'I could always ask Liara if she knows his name, she's bound to know...she is the Shadow Broker, after all.' The look on Diana's face made her smile grow even wider.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting. It's been a busy weekend and this week will be pretty mad too. Delays may take place, for which I apologise in advance._

'You knew she was the Shadow Broker?'

'There's a lot you don't know about me, Diana! And you're going to have a lot of fun finding out.'


	6. Dr Michel

_A/N: An impromptu week spent camping has put me behind in my chapters. But now I'm back from sleeping in a field for laughs, normal service has resumed. And I sincerely apologise for the sudden delay. _

_I'll shut up now and enjoy!_

* * *

'Next time, leave your shirt on Private Westmoreland.'

'I will doc.' grumbled the private, clearly embarrassed by such a turn of events. Dr. Michel was trying to keep a straight face and only just managed as door to the med-bay slid shut, leaving her alone.

She'd have to have a word with Lieutenant Vega about this...again. She'd already warned him twice that the marines were working too long out in the sun, without protection. But every day, more sunburn, another case of heat stroke and all because of some sort of shirtless machismo, as far as she could tell. But in the case of Private Westmoreland, it was clearly a need to get James to notice her by baring her own flesh, but she wasn't sure it was working.

The Normandy crew were an odd bunch. And not just because the members represent a fair portion of the Council races either. She's worked with turians, asari and salarians in the hospital. But this group...they should've been at loggerheads but they worked together well, even taking order from a human commander, despite not being affiliated with the Alliance Military.

This was her first really taste of life aboard a military ship. She was, after all a civilian doctor. Shepard had asked her to join the Normandy and she had agreed, though she still couldn't pin down why, possibly because she had encountered Shepard once before and she seemed like the honourable type. That said, she was no stranger to the war wounded either. And the Normandy crew had a distinct habit of getting hurt in the most unusual, bordering on ingenious ways. In fact, it was almost therapeutic to be treating minor contusion, abrasions, electric shocks and...of all things aboard a ship, sunburn.

The last serious patch up job she'd had was Major Alenko. Massive shrapnel wounds to one side of his torso, some were pretty deeply imbedded, but she didn't worry. She knew her craft well and had treated the Major before and found his resilience remarkable. And he didn't disappoint. It was little wonder the Commander was so fond of him. Garrus had some burns, but the turian's armour had protected him and most of the damage was superficial.

But for all their virtues, Dr. Michel had noticed that most had some sort of distant aversion of coming in to be treated. Shepard herself had been hesitant for a routine exam on her cybernetics when she had come aboard. And the number of times she had caught both her and Major Alenko stood in the mess, still armed and armoured, cover in muck, blood and gore, as well as having been beaten and bruised themselves, stuffing rations in their mouths as if they'd been starved for a week. She's grown used to the thickly mumbled 'Sorry' she always got as she frogmarched them both into the med-bay, all the while, the pair of them trying to swallow the mass of protein bars that had crammed in their mouths. Biotics...they ate like horses and never seemed to come in to get their amps check...especially those two! She always thought.

She sighed as she remembered those moments; she would miss them when she returned to Earth. She would miss the crew, and the ship. The med bay had become quiet with the deactivation of the ship's AI. Dr. Michel had little to do with EDI, she was synthetic, but she hadn't begrudged her presence either. Flight Lieutenant Moreau was a different matter altogether.

They had argued on a number of occasions over his meds, or at least the fact he seemed never to take them. She had been warned of this by Dr. Chakwas, but hadn't thought she was being utterly serious...or had at least exaggerated the battle of wills between the two of them. But she really hadn't. He was exceptionally stubborn and almost conniving in his excuses on why he never took his meds.

Thinking of Jeff made her a little sad and worried. He had become attached to the AI, and now she was gone and he mourned her. Some of the fight in him seemed to have flagged too. He seemed listless and lost compared to how he normally was, so much so that he had come for a check up without her having to call in Shepard's help. Though she suspected there was another reason why he visited.

Her eyes turned to regard the doorway, the AI core. It seemed an odd place to put it, but she hadn't questioned the design of the ship. Technically she was just a visitor here and would leave when her service was over. But it still seemed odd to her. Jeff had entered the core a few times and she knew why.

EDI.

The platform she had been using was laid out in there in a respectful manner. It seemed right for the crew to do that, and the Doctor hadn't protested. She'd even found an Alliance flag in the stores to use as a shroud. He had visited her a few times, but he hadn't been by in a few days. She'd seen him sitting in the mess, alone while the other's worked. Rumour had it that people were making excuses for him not to help out. Saying he needed time to mourn EDI. It wasn't fair to do that, she thought. He needs his friends around him, to help him through. He needed Shepard...but she wasn't there either.

Commander Shepard, Dr. Michel knew that she would always feel proud to be able to say that she had known the Hero of the Citadel, had worked with her and had patched her up more times than she had with anyone else. Her initial feelings on the Commander had proven to be true when the crunch came to the crunch. Shepard took the honourable route, even though it hadn't been easy for her. She'd helped cure the genophage and save the krogan, afterall the Commander was exceptionally friendly with them. With her help, the quarians and geth had reached some measure of peace, though it would've been easier to side with one faction or the other. The Commander had believed in a united galaxy, she had said so many times through the journey. Though she had said she lamented the fact that it had been the threat of extinction that had finally pulled everyone together. And now she was lost to them all...the whole crew felt that loss, some more than others.

Dr. Michel had seen the hurt on Major Alenko's face when he had woken to find that they had crash and Shepard wasn't aboard. She had heard that he'd trashed the Observation Lounge when Admiral Hackett had said that the Commander was most likely dead. Now he seemed sullen and moody and rarely spoke to anyone. He came in for his check-ups much better than he had with Shepard. She had clearly been the troublemaker of the two.

Rumours they were an item had been rife since his return, some scandalously so. And from what she had seen of them together, it didn't surprise her that they had something. After all, the Major was handsome and Shepard had a charm about her too. Plus they seemed to 'fit' together. The Doctor had monitored the pair of the closely when the rumours that the Major had all but moved into The Loft, just in case something should happen that shouldn't...but there had been little fear of that in the end.

There was also the rather mind-boggling fact that this wasn't the first time that Shepard had died either, nor the first time the crew had to mourn their friend and commanding officer. But upon seeing their faces and watching how they coped, Dr. Michel felt that it was no easier for them the second time around.

'If you need someone to talk to Major Alenko,' she had said upon his last check-up 'my door is always open.'

He had merely nodded in return, said his thanks and left.

It was an offer she had made to most that come through the door. Everyone had lost someone, she suspected that she would be amongst them too when they returned to Earth and the Butcher's Tally was finally seen. She had had a lot of friends aboard the Citadel after she had left. And she knew in her heart that many of them would've stayed after the Cerberus coup, in fact they would've stayed to the bitter end. There was the horrid thought that such an end would be just that...the end. The end of their lives.

Dr. Chloe Michel shuddered at the thought but had little time to dwell upon it as the door opened. It was Tali'Zorah. The little quarian woman was after a sealant compound for a hole in her suit.

'That bosh'tet fuzzy thing in Shepard's quarters did it.' was all she gave in explanation.

Sometimes it was good to keep busy and not let your mind dwell on things too much.


	7. Liara

History has a way of repeating itself.

Once, Liara would've enjoyed such an irony. Once, when she was young and more focused on digging in the dirt to uncover the unknown, of what had once been. She would've liked that sentiment.

But not now.

History had been repeating itself all her life and it had almost killed the galaxy. But now, now there was a chance for all races to forge a new history for themselves and for the galaxy as a whole...but first, for Liara T'Soni, history had to repeat itself one last time.

Her message was embedded in the signals that Normandy had been throwing out in all directions since the crash. Buried were only those who knew what to look for and where to look would find them. It was a vain hope, a fool's hope...but it had worked last time, hopefully it would work again.

Liara had taken a quiet moment to herself to check her consoles, worry etching lines on her face as they booted up. She'd turned them off to conserve power, diverting it back to where it belonged, in the heart of the Normandy. The more power they had, the quicker the engineering crew could fix the ship and they could get back. Liara's desire to go back to Thessia was strong, as was rebuilding the Shadow Broker's network...but it was Earth, a world she had no real bond with, that called to her strongest of all. And she wasn't the only one.

Everyone aboard wished to leave. The human crew wanted to return to the birthworld of their species to rebuild it. To find their friends and relatives and reunite with them, or lay them to rest, whichever was more appropriate. Also to repair the bond with the world that had ultimately birthed them. Liara understood their desire, she felt it herself...but there was something deeper for her, perhaps only matched by one other aboard, if what she had gleaned from her bonding with a human was true.

Shepard.

Once more, Liara found herself searching for the body of Commander Freya Shepard. But this time, the race wasn't against others who wished to sell the Commander's body to the highest bidder...this time it was potentially a race again time to try and save her life. There was no evidence that Shepard was alive, but the quicker Liara got people aboard the Citadel to search...the quicker everyone would know either way. Would she return to Earth to find her friend alive and healing? Or would she help bury the woman she deeply admired and who would always be a part of her? She hoped for the former...and not just for her own sake but for everyone's. But she couldn't help but feel like part of her had died, and that part was the connection she shared with the Commander.

Liara wiped her tears on her sleeve. She's not even realised she was crying. She gave a little laugh as, had Glyph been here, the little VI would've made some comment upon it. Another tear fell at the thought. She actually missed Glyph. Yes, the VI had been invaluable in her operations, but she missed the banter it gave to her on random, unimportant things, completely missing irony or sarcasm spoken to it.

She had tinkered with the VI often when she had taken over the role of Shadow Broker. She felt she'd almost got to know it while she fixed its glitches. It responded well to her after that, like a properly trained pet. But Glyph no longer graced her quarters and it probably never would again.

Glyph had shorted out after the Normandy was hit and everything she had tried to reinitialise it had failed. Even the backups couldn't seem to resurrect the VI. Goddess, the backups of the backups were just as dead. It was like Glyph had been completely erased. The technology was still there, but it just wasn't working. One night, unable to sleep, Liara had theorised that the modules responsible to creating and projecting Glyph had been wiped clean of all traces of the VI's program and, in truth, all that was needed to reinitialise it was to rewrite the VI's code from the ground up. It was beyond her own capability, but it made her wonder, would this rewrite bring Glyph back or would it be something else?

It was a sobering thought that extended beyond thoughts of synthetic life.

She hadn't confided this thought to anyone...not directly. She had informed Kaidan that Glyph had stopped working, in much the same way as EDI, but nothing more. She had only reported it to him due to the simple fact that he was the ranking officer aboard the ship...so technically, if she read the Alliance Regulations correctly, the Normandy was his ship now. She didn't say much to him, keeping her report brief and formal; she didn't want to burden him any more than he already was.

Human grief was something that puzzled Liara somewhat, thought she had never voiced it. Although linking minds with Shepard had meant some bleed through from the Commander's mind, Shepard was still an alien, and her thought processes, although they had an analogous with her own, were still mysterious. But she had known Kaidan long enough to see he was in emotional pain. Much like he had been when Shepard had perished on the first Normandy...but this was different. Worse. Liara understood. She knew of the love they shared, the Commander and the Major. She had felt echoes of it in the past and it played on the edge of Shepard's mind when they had shared Liara's memories.

An awkward silence fell between the two of them after her report, and Liara fidgeted, unsure. The only time she had properly observed the human grieving process was when Ash had died. But that was less than helpful as Shepard and Kaidan had found solace together. The moment stretched and Kaidan had made his excuse to leave.

'Major!' she had called out after him. He'd hesitated and half turned to regard her. He looked lost, tired and angry...but also defeated.

'I'm sorry.' She breathed.

Kaidan had nodded. 'Me too.' He almost whispered and she'd hardly glimpsed him since.

Joker was a different matter. She saw him on a regular basis as he seemed to be drifting through the ship like some sort of ghost. Liara saw the same look in his eye as Kaidan had. He was also showing the same decidedly moody demeanour that Kaidan seemed to wrap himself in. However, Joker seemed to have become almost volatile in comparison to the stoic silence that it was reported to now come from Kaidan. He had shouted at various crew members a number of times when they had tried to give him their condolences. Not to mention snapping at people and shouting that he didn't want or need their pity when they said they didn't need any help. And when he wasn't shouting and swearing at his co-workers, Liara would often see him sitting in the mess, staring into the bottom of a bowl or ration packet as if the answer to everything would be found there, as if all he needed to look long and hard enough.

'What do you want?' he had snapped at Liara when she had sat down at his table. She'd picked a seat not near to him, but not at the other end of the table.

'Merely to eat.' She had replied, more coldly than she had intended. 'But if that bothers you, I can eat elsewhere.' She got up to leave and Joker had blanched.

'God, I'm sorry Liara...I just thought you were going to say something or something...I don't know.'

Liara found herself sitting down once more and looking at the pilot. He'd grown so fond of EDI, he was taking her death badly, and for a moment, she thought about telling him about her theory. But she didn't as, the theory she had could be taken either way and to give him false hope that EDI could be restored...it seemed cruel.

'I wouldn't know what to say, even if I had planned to speak to you. Grief is something that is very individual thing...I heard Shepard telling EDI that once. Plus, it is difficult for me to judge the crews reactions.'

'Oh.' Was all Joker managed in return, seemingly taken aback by Liara's rather blunt honest.

They ate in silence but Liara spoke before she left. It was risky, but it was worth a try.

'With your permission, Dr. Michel has been thinking of laying EDI out in the AI core. She thinks it might be more appropriate, so the peace of those who go to see her isn't broken by angry, sunburnt marines.'

She watched Joker struggle to process what was said before nodding, his voice failing. He got up and shuffled off, muttering a 'Thanks Liara' to her before she left. She watched him go and her heart sank a little. Although she had never exactly approved of Joker's desire for EDI, they had spoken enough times on a variety of subject matters for Liara to at least appreciate EDI's intellect and intelligence. Plus, she had to wonder if what Joker had felt for EDI was any different from the feelings she had felt for Shepard. All she had witnessed in the galaxy at Shepard's side had muddied the waters on such things. Things weren't so clear cut any more.

Liara sighed, wiping her face again. It hurt to think on such things. It hurt that she had lost so much. But much had also been gained too; she merely hoped the cost had not been too great to free the galaxy.

She looked up at her consoles. She'd have to turn them off again soon, but she hoped something might come through while she waited. She wondered idly who would contact her first. In her heart, she hoped it would be Feron. She missed him too.

The minutes ticked by, and the screen remained blank. Maybe tomorrow, she thought. Maybe history will repeat itself tomorrow.


	8. Gabby and Ken

Engineer Gabriella Daniels shifted in her sleep, she was dreaming again...she hated dreaming. She'd never used to but after what had happened last year, she found she didn't sleep quite so easily any more. In her working hours, the thought of the Collectors swarming aboard the Normandy always sent a shiver down her spine. But in the embrace of sleep, her fears were often magnified and there was little she could do to stop them and so, she rode them out as best as she could and usually woke with a start. However, recently such a jolt back into consciousness would often wake Engineer Kenneth Donnally too. The bunks were pretty small, but the pair would squeeze into one and sleep. It was a bit of a double edged sword because there was the lack of space to move, which meant waking up with pins and needles...and there was Ken snoring in her ear too. But she enjoyed the warmth and closeness of it too...so things evened out.

But not tonight.

When Gabby woke with a start, the bed beside her was empty and cold. She was alone in the darkened bunk and panicked for a moment before the memories of the dream drifted away and she pushed the actual memories of what had away in the darkest part of her mind, where she wouldn't think of them again.

'Kenneth?' she hissed to the dark, but got no reply.

Where was he?

-

'OW!' Gabby cried and she pulled her hand away from the console, the static still arcing from her fingers. It really stung and it wasn't the first time she'd gained an electrical shock from the unit. She was supposed to be helping the others with the communications and power lines to get the Normandy in contact with the Fleet so they could find out what had happened. But Gabby found she had more pressing concerns on her mind, almost as if everyone had completely overlooked them in favour of simply being able to shout for help louder than before. It was a bitter thought, she knew and it made her feel bad too, after all, the Normandy was wounded and needed help...but EDI needed help too.

During the Normandy's flight, the Engineers had been driven from the engine room by alarms and they had taken up refuge in the CIC as they could monitor things in Engineering from there. And all hell had broken loose after that. It had happened so fast. The shaking. The energy wave. Consoles had exploded as the wires inside them fused and burnt. There was smoke and cries of pain and panic. Gabby fell and banged her head on the deck, blacking out for a moment before everything went haywire.

No one could explain exactly what had happened, although everyone had their theories...and all the theories started with the Crucible. But either way, whatever had happened had caused the Normandy to crash, caused a lot of damage to the ship's systems but most worryingly of all, as far as Gabby herself was concerned, was that EDI was non-operational.

She remembered hearing Joker shouting her name once the world had stopped spinning and she'd shrugged off Ken's support to stagger to the cockpit to see why he was shouting EDI's name, it felt important, more important than the fizzing, burst consoles and the bloodied, staggering crew.

Gabby saw EDI's platform sprawled in the co-pilot's chair, looking very much like a marionette with its strings cut. It looked...empty, there was no visible damage on the platform itself, like EDI no longer animated it. She saw Joker trying to shake EDI's shoulders, as best as he could, his chair and harness unable to fully protect him from the impact. Gabby was no doctor but she knew that one of Joker's arms was clearly broken and he was slumped across the seat in a way that suggested his legs were hurt too. Not to mention a pained breathlessness to his voice. He seemed utterly focused on the platform, not even noticing Gabby.

'EDI?' she called out into the space around the cockpit.

Nothing.

'EDI, are you there?'

Still nothing.

Gabby cursed and climbed into Joker's vacated seat to try andstart a diagnostic on the comm speakers in the cockpit. EDI's silence could simply be a fault in the comm systems, maybe the speakers had blown. There could've been a number of reasons that EDI would abandon the physical platform...that didn't worry her overmuch. But to have no contact with her...that was unnerving to say the least. It mean that they didn't know how badly damaged the Normandy was either. Yes, they'd find that information out eventually but at present, everyone aboard the ship was blind.

'What are you doing?' Joker's voice was strange and thick with emotion, none of it good.

'I'm checking the Normandy's comm system, there's enough emergency power for the diagnostic. It could be that EDI simply can't hear us.' she replied, turning to smile in a reassuring manner. She wasn't sure if it worked, or if she was smiling for Joker's benefit or her own. He seemed to ponder if for a moment before wincing in pain, any reply lost to a moan of distress.

Gabby bit her lip before getting out of the seat and heading out.

'Hey! Wait, where are you going?' Joker called after her in an almost desperate panic.

'I'm going to get you some help.'

In the end, Gabby returned alone and had to explain to Joker that the Normandy's systems were so fried that the elevators weren't working and no one had been able to raise anyone else on the comm systems and so she'd dispatched Ken to crawl through the access tubes to the level below to get the doctor and he had promised her he'd be as quick as he humanly could.

'I managed to get a shot of medi-gel from one of the marines though...it should ease the pain, or so he told me.'

Gabby found herself breathing a sigh of relief when the diagnostic told her what she had already suspected from her brief chat with the other engineers. In truth, it would probably mean a complete overhaul of the entire system...and that was a lot of cable to replace. But it meant that, there was a very good chance that, once they got to the AI Core, they'd be able to directly contact EDI herself. This also brought Joker a measure of comfort too.

It was just a shame that such comfort was short lived.

-

Her feet padded across the floor of the medi-bay. Privates Westmoreland and Campbell had told Gabby where she might find Ken, and it was confirmed by Dr. Michel herself. It made no sense for him to be in there, no sense at all. She tried not to look at the shrouded figure one of the med-bay tables, as if acknowledging it would mean she'd have to accept it, but was just irksome it was right next to the door for the AI core.

The door slid open and Gabby couldn't help but almost admire the view she saw, of Ken's backside sticking out of a console Gabby had half dismantled yesterday but hadn't got back to repairing. It had been a good idea, but it had ultimately failed, and she felt sure Ken was going to discover that in...3...2...1...

A rather loud swearword echoed around the small space and Ken struggled to pull himself free of the console wires, his hands now covered in blood. Gabby rushed forward to help him as well as asking what the hell he was doing.

'Trying to get my fiancé back!' he told her rather bluntly as she smeared medi-gel on the cuts and burns of his hands. It was something that she had kept close by while she'd worked in here to restore EDI.

'What do you mean?' she asked him, though in her heart, she knew the answer.

'Well the quicker I get EDI back online, the quicker I'll get to see you again. You spend all your time in here...I miss you. Plus Adams needs your help to get the ship back up and running...but you've stopped listening in favour of this.' he gestured around the room.

Gabby felt both angry and ashamed in equal measure. She had been neglecting her duties, that was for sure...but she couldn't rest until she had found out what had happened to EDI and restore her. But, when she thought about it, REALLY thought about it, there was something in her heart telling she'd been purposefully hiding from the truth. Like not looking at the shrouded platform...Gabby tried not to think about what all her results were telling her, because if she acknowledged the results, then she'd have to accept the inevitable fact.

Gabby breathed out a sigh, unable to look at Ken. He was clever, much cleverer than a lot of people gave him credit for. He would've seen what she saw and come to the same conclusion...but he was trying the same things as she had anyway but to no avail.

'If we...rewrote her...do you think she'd still be the same?' she ventured the question.

She could almost hear the cogs in Ken's head turning and grinding to give her a reply. She braced herself for it, but even that didn't seem to cushion the blow.

'...no.' he replied quietly.

Silent tears fell down Gabby's face and Ken shuffled over to her and gathered her up in his hands. It didn't matter that the wounds on his hands reopened, that wasn't important. All that was important was that he was there for the girl he was crazy about and wanted to marry. All he wanted was to comfort her and try to make everything right.

They stayed that way until Gabby's sobs stilled and she spoke quietly. 'I'd like to leave now,' she whispered.

Ken nodded. 'Ok, we'll go to the crew quarters.'

Gabby pulled away. 'No...I want to leave the planet. I want...I want to leave...the Normandy.'


	9. Garrus

'It's ready.'

Damn, even on a ball of dirt, light years from anywhere...Cortez is still the man who knows how to get things. This was Garrus's first thought when Lt. Steve Cortez handed over the item Garrus had asked him for. The guy looked terrible, tired, like everyone else aboard the Normandy. Work was never ending and everyone was pulling double and even triple-shifts to see to repairs. Even Garrus himself had not been idle.

Although his expertise were more in calibration huge guns, that wasn't to say he was completely useless in restoring the Normandy to operational status. Plus, being turian meant that he was the first port of call on a number of specifics when it came to the ship. This was ironic really as, unlike the original which had been designed AND made by both turian and human experts, the SR2 had been built solely by human hands based on the designs of the SR1 and then adapted to fit other criteria that Cerberus deemed necessary. Then the Normandy had gone through a second refit when the ship had been given back to the Alliance. So, in truth, he had little knowledge of the internal workings of the ship...but since there was something of turian design in there somewhere, he did what he could.

Garrus looked down at the item in his hand, giving it the once over before nodding. Definitely what he had asked for, not that he had ever doubted that Steve wouldn't come through on his end of the bargain.

'You sure you can do this? I mean, you sure it's the right time.' Steve ventured, hesitantly.

Garrus looked up and nodded.

'Yeah, now would be a good time for this. Thanks Steve.'

Cortez nodded in returned and went back to what he was doing. Garrus hesitated for a second, wondering if he should say something to Cortez, maybe about getting some sleep, but decided against it. He was meddling enough with forces beyond his control already without telling the humans that they needed to sleep before they fell down. They were so odd.

Without a word, Garrus turned and left the cargo bay via the outside hatch. It was easier to get around the Normandy from the outside than it was to climb through the ducts. The elevator still was out. Or at least it hadn't been fixed all the way down the shaft. Enough power had been initially restored between the CIC and the crew quarters, but that was more so Dr. Michel could get to the cockpit and help those who'd been injured in the crash.

Garrus couldn't help but turn his face to the sun for a moment once he was outside. It almost reminded him of the Citadel. The sun always shone of the Presidium and he's secretly enjoyed basking in it when he could...although not openly. Things had been simpler back then, and a lot more frustrating too. It had caused the rift between his father and himself to grow...but it had also ultimately lead him to his place the galaxy too. At Shepard's side.

'There's no Shepard without Vakarian.'

He smiled at the memory of his friend. She had looked him in the eye and said that to him in the ruins of her homeworld and she had meant every word of it. He'd been touched by the sentiment and had never valued her friendship more than he had at that moment. He had returned it in the only way he knew how...he'd told her to do what she did best. He had told her to fight. To go out there and kick the Reapers right back into Dark Space and make sure they knew never to come back. But it also brought a question swimming to the forefront of his mind.

Was there Vakarian without Shepard?

He knew the answer. He had been through Shepard's death once before and lived to tell the tale. Hell, it had made him stronger, more determined to follow the example she had set and actually do some good in the galaxy. And although he felt he would never quite manage what she had done, he would damn well give it his all anyway.

'Hey Scars, you want a suntan, maybe you should take Estaban's next shift on the hull plates.'

Garrus snorted at James's comment. He liked the human, he couldn't deny that to himself, but he would never speak a word of that to James himself. They were alike in many ways. Warriors to the very marrow. All they were good at was fighting and it suited them well.

'You know Vega...I might just do that. I've always wondered how long human's can hold their breath.' He mused with a grin.

'Longer than you could!' James shot back before he returned to his work.

Garrus shook his head. This was a battle that would probably never get won, he thought to himself. The good natured boasting and jibes between comrades. It was a habit human marines seemed to have in abundance. Turian's not as much as their commanders kept them focused at all times when on mission. Afterwards, well you had something to shout about, you had to be ready to prove it on the training floor or you'd lose the respect of your comrades and that could mean death in battle.

The CIC was quiet in comparison to how it had been a few days ago. The Engineers had obviously redistributed their resources elsewhere to deal with another problem or refit. It felt odd to Garrus to be standing there in the main hub of the ship and for it to be almost empty. Even during the night shifts, it had always been buzzing with activity. He had often come up to talk with Shepard when she was on duty. It was probably against regulations, but nothing ever happened on the night shift and he was sure she was always glad of the company.

He strolled around to the Galaxy Map and stood on its little podium. Shepard would often stand there and ponder over the galaxy. What her thoughts were, Garrus had never asked, but sometimes she would ask him things about parts she had never travelled to, especially in turian space and in the Attican Traverse, laughing as they remember his time as Archangel and how Shepard and saved him from the gangs. But the Map was dark, it's screen cracked. It seemed symbolic. He'd never been overly religious, but Garrus felt like it was a portent as to the state the galaxy was in right now. He just hoped it could be fixed as easily as replacing the screen on the Map.

The full when he called it up, the crew disgorging from below with fresh tasks to do. A few nodded to him as they passed and he shared a smile with Tali. He's hardly seen her since they crashed, they had caught some time together over meals in the mess where they talked about what was going on and laughed when they spoke of their time with the Commander. He had also held her while she had grieved for Shepard and he grieved with her in his own way. He hadn't wept like she had but bore his loss stoically and without complaint. Tali's need was greater than his own and he stood firm for her. In time, she would no doubt repay the favour, although he was sure she'd never realise it. But in their brief moment together, Tali saw what Garrus was carrying.

'He's in the mess.' She whispered to him before the press of people carried her away.

His mind was rolling on the short trip down one deck. He had convinced himself that he didn't do this, no one would and it would, in the long run, be bad for everyone. But what gave him the right to decide this? Why should he dictate this to others?

In truth, he had no right, other than that, despite all outward appearances, he actually cared. He cared for the crew and wanted to do what he could to help them, but sometimes helping them meant facing up to reality. Sometimes cold, turian logic was exactly what was needed...and cold, turian logic was something he could manage.

Joker was exactly where Tali said he was, sat in the mess, moping. Garrus had no real opinion on the relationship the pilot had struck with EDI, it wasn't really his business. Plus, he'd seen all sorts in this crazy galaxy that a human falling for an AI didn't seem all that odd really. With the whole galaxy going to hell in a packing crate, why not find a bit of happiness wherever it could be found, even in unlikely places. After all, had he been told he'd have a fling with a quarian when he was younger, he was sure he'd have laughed at them. But he found Tali pleasing, as she did with him and they had enjoyed each other's company. But was it more than just a fling? Garrus didn't know, but if nothing else, he'd treasure the time they had spent together anyway...even if it wasn't going or meant to last.

Joker's demenour had changed dramatically since the crash. And again when the female Engineer had failed in all her attempts to restore EDI. He'd become even more sullen and moody and his temper had flared on a regular basis. Now...now he seemed a little more settled. Word had it that a brief conversation with Liara over moving EDI's platform out of the med-bay and into the AI core had calmed him somewhat. Or at least shown him that he had to accept what was happening and try to move on.

Now was definitely the right time for this, he thought and approached Joker.

'For when the time is right.' was all he said and he slipped a wrapped item across the table towards Joker and said no more.

The item Steve had given him was actually two, and it had felt like a knife in Garrus's heart to ask Cortez for it. The other was just as important but didn't have such an impact on him.

Joker reached forward, grabbing the per-offered item and removing the wrapping from the long, thin package. He didn't say anything at what he saw revealed and looked at Garrus, complex emotions playing on his face that Garrus couldn't read.

'When the time is right.' he replied and left Joker to his thoughts. It seemed a little harsh, but then again, the galaxy was just that.

Now he would have to find Kaidan.


	10. Grunt

_A/N: First and foremost, I'd like to apologise for the MASSIVE delay in updating this fic. I've been currently struggling with something akin to writer's block...or more precisely, an inability to get the head canon out of my head and into a digitally written format. It's been kicking my ass for over a week now and progress is painfully slow. It's an important chapter and therefore I can't skimp on it...it would be doing all my readers a complete disservice and could easily break the story if it wasn't right. So it may mean a further delay while I do battle with it...for which I apologise again.  
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_Next, I would like to tell you that this chapter here ISN'T the chapter I mentioned above. This is a completely different chapter that I wrote a while ag that was meant to be AFTER the aforementioned chapter...but as this was done and the other wasn't, and this doesn't completely negate the flow of the story, I thought I'd post it a chapter earlier than I originally intended.  
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_Lastly, thanks again for all your patience and reviews. You've kept me writing when I might've easily given up. You guys are awesome.  
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_Ok, I'll shut up now. Enjoy!  
_

* * *

His arms ached. His back ached. Hell, everything about him ached as he grit his teeth once more and pulled. The rubble was thick here, and bloody heavy but Grunt tugged again and it finally came free.

He's been digging for over a week and a half now. All the krogan had and they'd shifted more debris than any of the other races would have in twice that time. But the krogan weren't digging for the other races, Grunt certainly wasn't...they were digging for Shepard.

Wrex and Grunt had watched as the blast wave hit Earth. Both had been up to their armpits in Reaper guts, and with Wrex that had been literal as he'd taken on three Brutes. The first two took most of his ammo to take down. The third had been wounded enough by his last thermal clip for Wrex to pretty much reach into its chest and pull out its still-beating heart.

The roars of victory from them all had filled the sky as the Reapers fell. Not only had Earth been retaken, but the Reapers had been defeated and the galaxy was now free. Both Wrex and Grunt knew who had made this possible, there could only be one person in either of their minds that could pull off such a feat. And it was for that reason and many others that the krogan, including Wrex himself, had volunteered to help search the rubble on the Citadel for Shepard. They had to find her, they owed her at least that much for all she had done for them. Alive would be good...but if not; they would bury her with full honours on the birthworld of her species. Or maybe, if they were allowed, they'd lay her to rest on Tuchanka, Wrex felt she'd be more at home out in the cosmos as he knew that Shepard was a Spacer, born and bred.

The Citadel stank of rancid blood and old meat, or the parts that were still intact and not open to space did. The stench was powerful and it turned even Grunt's stomach to smell it...and he was no stranger to such things. Not even the rendering pods of the Collectors had smelt this terrible. Bad things had happened here. Bad things like they had on the Collector base. But the deeper they pushed, the more that abattoir smell started to recede only to be replaced by burning and death. That didn't bode well, especially considering how unstable this part of the Citadel was.

A Keeper corpse had been crushed, but it wasn't burned. Even if it had been, Grunt would have bet anything that it wasn't the source of the burning death scent. He knew this smell; Earth had been rank with it. Human meat had been burnt here...somewhere and in large quantities.

'We'll find Shepard.' Wrex had declared when there was talk of sending people to the Citadel to search and no one had any cause to dispute that fact. Grunt had secretly sworn to himself that he would be the one to find Shepard.

Shepard is my Battlemaster. She has no match.

It had become something of a mantra to Grunt as he pulled the rubble away. She had woke him up from the Tank, accepted him into her squad and helped him gain his place in Clan Urdnot. She had been his Battlemaster and she had accomplished things that he was sure no other could manage. Grunt owed her more than he could possible say.

Shepard is my Battlemaster. She has no match.

Dig, pull, push, heave, and dig. His hands were bloody ribbons but still he pushed forward, angry when instability or void blockages slowed progress, but he kept his rage in check. But these delays could easily cost Shepard her life. Humans were fragile creatures at the best of times, the Tank had told him as much. But to be trapped for long periods of time...Grunt was unsure how a human would survive. They had no hump of fat reserves like the krogan and they were soft, porous creatures with liquid heavy flesh. It didn't bode well for Shepard, as resourceful as he knew her to be...but in his heart, Grunt wanted to find the Commander alive. She was a hero and the krogan people would sing battle songs about her for generations to come. But more than that, she had save Grunt's life and that was a debt that he had to repay. No doubt, if she were here, Shepard would say that getting them out of those damn caves full of those Rachni Reapers would be enough. Not to mention watching her back on the Collector base and taking down a Thresher Maw and the million other times he'd charged into battle with her. But this was deeper than that...much deeper.

Shepard is my Battlemaster. She had no match.

One of the turians was saying something, nodding to Grunt now that the hole he had created was secured. They were weary, climbing through the decay and rubble. He wasn't sure why, the Reapers were all dead and starting to rot on Earth, as well as everywhere else in the damn galaxy. However, in primitive part of his brain understood the turian caution too...fear of the unknown. This was a new area of the Citadel that no one had been into. It wasn't on the plans either and so the turians weren't massively eager to push forward. But Grunt had had enough.

'You're going too slow.' He growled and battered the lead turian engineer out of the way, tramping up the ramp, and kicking fallen wall pieces out of his way. The smell of death was getting stronger and was unmistakable human now, tainted with something else...something almost like metal. But this was new death rather than the decay stink of the bodies that the Reapers had brought up for processing.

He surged forward, the scent spurring him on into something that looked like a control room. Vast windows were sealed by emergency blast shields and everything that had been in the room that wasn't welded to the floor as been dragged towards them, and included the two bodies. One was whole and intact, the other had been sheered in half. One he recognised, the other he didn't, but he had his suspicions...but both were very clearly not Shepard.

Shepard is my Battlemaster. She had no match.

The turians ran to inspect what Grunt had uncovered and confirmed what Grunt had suspected. Anderson, Shepard's boss had bled out from a gunshot wound and was lying up against the blast shields. The bisected corpse was thought to be that of The Illusive Man.

None were sure due to a number of reasons. The first, no one had ever seen him and two, he looked like he was half Reaper himself. Metal and cybernetics wound their way up his neck and on to his face, and dead synthetic eyes peered from beneath open lids. There was a distinct hole in his head too; Grunt noticed...probably self inflected.

Grunt's nostrils flared. Death and burning again...but this time something else, subtle but noticeable. The soft scent of a female...a human female and one he had smelt a number of times before, but slightly different, like she was in heat or something. The scent of her was richer than usual...maybe it was that human she had been so fond of...the one that she had kept a picture of in her cabin. It didn't matter because it was her.

'HERE!' he roared as the turians prodded and poked at the remains of the others. He shouted again as he hunkered down, trailing his fingers in the sticky fluid that coated the floor. It was blood.

'It's Shepard's...she was here.'

'You sure?' the turian nearest him asked dubious, scanning the pool with his omni-tool.

'Postive. Now all we have to do is find out where she went. And from the look of this blood...probably not very far.'

In the end, Grunt had been right, but it had taken the turian engineers the best part of four hours to locate, strip out and replace old wiring and activate the blood stained elevation panel. And with each passing hour, Grunt felt his rage and apprehension grow. It was a lot of blood and the Tank had told him that losing that much blood from a human could kill them. But he also wondered why Shepard's armour hadn't kicked in and started dispensing medi-gel into her system to stop it. These were worrying questions that Grunt wanted answers to, and it was the reason that he alone took the elevation platform up.

'Shepard?' he called to the black and charred room. It was huge but fire had touched almost every part of it. What the room was, what it was used for...he had no idea and he didn't care. Shepard's blood had led him here and he would be damned if he was leaving here empty handed.

'Shepard?' he called again, louder this time and padded off into the murk of the room. Parts of the concourses had collapsed, and some of the ceiling had come down, blocking his path to the right. So he checked to left to find nothing and only a yawning chasm ahead.

'Dammit Shepard! Answer me!' he called again. 'When I find you I'm going to feed your bones to a Thresher Maw for this.'

Once again he braced his arms and heaved. The sections started to fall away as the turians reappeared, having secured below, the followed to see what all the noise was about, and why it had started to rain debris.

'Help me move this!' he snarled as he pushed a heavy support girder up. They ran to help him shift it away to reveal a gap, too small from him to crawl through, but he stuck his head through anyway.

'Shepard?' he called again. Still no answer, but the smell of her had returned, but it was less pleasant than the smell of her blood. It almost smelt like she'd been spit roasted, or at least that was the images that his mind conjured up at the smell. She had to be here. Her body had to be here. He could almost taste her; she had to be close by.

'To hell with this!'

With a roar that shook the room, Grunt charged the small hole he had made. It was foolhardy and reckless and should have killed them all. But he'd had enough. He had had his fill of this place and he wanted out. He wanted his Battlemaster returned and he would be damned if he was going to leave without her. Rage fuelled him and seemed to keep him alive as he shoulder his way through the gap.

His eyes strained to pierce the gloom. His nostrils widened to get her scent. Where was she? He crouched down and felt around. He could hardly see as it was, but the dust his entrance had thrown up made it worse.

'Shepard?' he half choked and coughed. And another...but that one wasn't him.

Shepard is my Battlemaster. She had no match.


	11. Joker

Flight Lieutenant Jeff 'Joker' Moreau sat quietly amidst the soft, loamy soil of the planet. It might've seemed odd for a man who was only content amongst the stars to find solace in the earth of a planet, but these were strange times he found himself in. Plus, he was tired, exhausted really. It had been a long day and it had been exceptionally difficult, both physically and emotionally, not just for him but for everyone aboard the Normandy.

The sun was just starting to dip below the tree line and a chill was starting to suffuse the air. The season of this planet had definitely begun to turn. The ship had crashed weeks ago but despite the rather unsatisfying projections of damage repair made not long after landing of 'three months', the crew of the Normandy had pulled together and they were nearing completion of repairs, or at least almost the point where the ship would be space worthy (to completely repair the Normandy, back to her original specs, would take about 6 months in dry dock, after all she wasn't even complete when Jeff and EDI had stolen the ship) in just over one. But even with such a monumental effort shown by the crew, they had been the worst five weeks of Jeff's life.

As he sat, he turned a package carefully over and over in his hands, almost playing with it absentmindedly. Garrus had given it to him a week ago, and it had taken up until that morning to finally have the courage to make an attempt utilise it. The turian had merely handed it over to him one afternoon in the mess and said 'When the time is right.' and left without saying another word. Jeff had opened it and it felt like the bottom had dropped of his stomach at its content. He had known what it was the moment Garrus had given it to him; he'd seen Shepard with enough of them. But it was another to receive one himself. He'd sat frozen on the spot staring at it, before shaking hands had peeled back the wrapping. He hoped it was something else. He'd have given ANYTHING for it to be something else. But he knew, in his heart...hell, in his very soul what it was. He'd also noticed Garrus had a second one, and given the turian's behaviour in actually gaining those parcels...he was pretty sure who the other was destined for.

Garrus was a good friend, he thought to himself as he turned the parcel once more. Amazed at the understanding Garrus had on the moods of his fellow, human crew mates. Sometimes it was hard to forget that, despite all outward appearances, even turians had feelings too. Though he wasn't sure what had pushed Garrus to include him in this. Shepard was his friend, his confidant, his partner-in-crime...so to speak. Hell, he might even have thought that Shepard might've hooked up with Garrus after Horizon and the shouting match she'd had with Kaidan. So honouring her would've taken no thought at all for him. But this, this was unexpected.

But then again, the day had been full of unexpected events. And for a little while, Jeff pondered on the events of the day, almost feeling a weight lift off him.

Over the course of the repairs, he had come to this spot often in a desperate need just to get out of the ship. He couldn't stand the way the crew had been looking at him and treating him. It had driven him mad so many times. They were treating him like some sort of pariah. Making excuses for him not to help in the repairs to the ship, HIS ship. They would say they didn't need help or that they were nearly finished or some other crap, so that he would be unable to help. It sucked. But what was worse than that, worse than being idle, was the pity in their eyes when they tried to look him in the face and tell him a pack of lies.

Jeff had never liked pity, despite the fact he received on a regular basis...or at least he had until the Normandy. Shepard had never looked upon him with pity in her eyes. She had never asked him to give anything other than his best at his job, exactly the same as she asked of ever other person aboard. She had treated him no different from any other member of the crew...well, ok, she treat him differently from Kaidan, but that was only because she was sleeping with him. Shepard respected his abilities, and him...and the rest of the crew followed suit.

And now she wasn't here anymore...again, and this time, Jeff felt sure that it would be forever.

True, there wasn't a great deal he could do in terms of repairs to the ship; his skill was in flying them rather than fixing them. But he'd gained at least a working knowledge of some of the systems so he could've done something. But it had all been in vain and so he'd been left to wander the ship and the outside world instead. And it was this spot that had made him make up his mind, and with the curve of the Normandy's hull just visible behind him, Jeff had done what he had been trying his best to deny since he had crashed.

It hadn't been easy in any way and he'd had to stop many times as the pain, both physical and emotional had become too much. But he would stop and regain himself and carry on. There was something almost cathartic about his work out here, despite the fact that it felt like someone had punched a hole in his chest and was systematically squeezing his heart with every movement he made. It had to be done. And it had to be now...the time was right.

In truth, he wanted to do this alone, but he knew that he couldn't. So, when Kaidan seemed to appear out of nowhere, Jeff had merely nodded to the Major. After all, Kaidan understood. How could he not? But unlike Jeff, would he even have a chance, a proper chance to say goodbye to the woman he loved? Jeff wasn't so sure, and so he didn't object to some help from that quarter.

They dug in the soft earth in silence. There was nothing to say, nor needed to be said under the circumstances as both knew what they were doing and why. It seemed strange to Jeff to be working in such silence. He always enjoyed chatting while he worked, even in the heat of battle; there was always room for a quip to ease the tension he was feeling. And it didn't matter if anyone was around to hear it either, for it was as much for his own benefit as it was for anyone else who might be in earshot. However, he'd spent weeks raging at the crew, at the ship, at the heavens. He'd even curse Shepard a few times, as well as, in his darkest moments, cursing himself and EDI too. He'd screamed at the sky, asking the question that had no answer, but that didn't stop him saying it out loud.

'Why?'

He still had no answer to that question. He was sure he never would and it would itch at the back of his mind forever. But the more he raged, the most ashamed he'd become as his anger started to abate. The crew were trying to help in their own way, both as a whole, and as individuals. They didn't understand that what they were doing wasn't helping, especially when those who did try were shouted at. Even Gabby had stopped giving him her progress reports when he'd be particularly nasty to her about her continued failure to revive EDI, despite her promise. It had only been Liara's terse reply to him in the mess, followed by her quiet logic that had made him start to think he was being wholly unreasonable. And then Garrus and the wisdom of the parcel he had given...as well as his advice.

Had he said the same to Kaidan? Was that why he was out here now?

Maybe.

Kaidan had seemed to shut down after the rumoured biotic outburst in the Observation Lounge. Only James knew the truth, but he was being tight-lipped about it. After that, Kaidan had hardly spoken to anyone unless it was in some sort of official capacity. Jeff himself had expected to gain some sort of reprimand from him for all his outbursts, but nothing. There were also whispers that he'd taken up sleeping in the Loft in the last week or so too. He knew that people had been worried about him, even more so than they'd been worried about Jeff, probably because he wasn't shouting and swearing like Jeff had been. He glanced at the Major a few times, trying to work out his thoughts and reasoning, but failed miserably. The Major was a closed book and Jeff thought it rude to intrude, even though they were in this together.

And so they dug in the earth and they dug deep. Kaidan did most of the work and never complained. Jeff didn't either. It would've been rude.

What happened next, Jeff couldn't quite work it out. They had come up an unspoken agreement that the work they were doing was complete and had hauled themselves up to survey what they had done. The hole they had cut in the earth together had seemed so small. How could it possibly be big enough? He wasn't convinced, and yet he had a distinct eye for distance and depth, he knew. He knew it was enough...but maybe it wasn't too. It would never be enough, it would never be deep enough to bury what he was feeling, and now, he wasn't sure he wanted to. Now, looking at that hole, it made his feelings feel raw and fresh rather than festering like that had.

'I...' Jeff tried to say, then swallowed and tried to start again. 'How...' but the words wouldn't come. This was something he hadn't fully considered when he had thought this plan up. After all, he wasn't even sure he'd have been able to get this far on his own.

'Don't worry about it Joker.' Kaidan said softly. Jeff was a little shocked to hear him speak; his voice was so quiet, almost broken through lack of use. Jeff looked at him; he looked so tired and lost. Jeff narrowed his eyes.

'What do you mean?' he blurted out, his anger spiking a little for no real reason that he could grasp. Why shouldn't be worry? This was his task, his duty. It had to be him. He'd figure it out somewhat and he spat as much at the Major, who just stood by impassively, taking the venom.

'You don't have to worry, Joker.' He said again and nodded over towards the ship. Jeff turned sharply, anger still bubbling within him. But what he saw quickly douched his anger, and seemed to rob the strength from his limbs, so much so that Kaidan had to catch him.

Jeff tried to speak, but couldn't as tears rolled down his face at what he saw.

In respectful silence, the crew of the Normandy appeared over the rise. He saw Gabby, Liara and Tali walking together, Gabby had flowers in her hands...Jeff didn't know where she had got them from. Behind them was Dr. Michel and Specialist Traynor, Jeff was vaguely aware that Diana Allers was there too, her arm linked in with Samatha's . All of them looked sombre as the lead the way forward with Garrus bringing up the rear. Next came Engineers Adams and Donnelly, Cortez and James. They walked together as a group, each carrying a corner of a stretcher. They carried it with ease, as if the content of it weighed nothing at all. Each was careful where they placed their feet, each doing all they could to keep the stretcher level.

Jeff didn't notice the squads of marines in neatly ordered rows following at a respectful distance behind the quartet, all his focus was on the stretcher. How could it not, even though there was not much to see.

Upon the stretcher, wrapped in fresh, clean fabric...probably from the bunks and then draped with an Alliance flag was a figure that had clearly been laid in repose. There, on the stretcher was the body of the love of Jeff's life.

They carried EDI's body forward and laid her out beside the grave that Jeff and Kaidan had dug.

What happened next, Jeff couldn't say. He focus was solely upon the figure on the stretcher. His mind turned to the time he had first encountered EDI. He remembered feeling uneasy with her, not because she was an artificial intelligence, but because he was sure that she was nothing more than a Cerberus spy, put there so the Illusive Man could keep tabs on them all. After all, EDI technically had access to the whole ship, she could observe the whole crew easily, and they'd never know. So they'd argued at every possible opportunity, despite the fact that, in truth, EDI had never actually given him any reason to disagree with her.

Kasumi has said that they had argued like an old married couple.

But he'd been ultimately wrong. She wasn't just a Cerberus spy and she's shown that when the ship had been attacked. She had asked him to remove her shackles so that she could defend the ship, so she could do what he couldn't. Although he'd had his reservations about it, he'd seen no other alternative. He had released her and she had shown her true colours.

She had done exactly as she said she would. She had defended the Normandy and Jeff himself from the Collectors. And once Shepard had returned, EDI had told her everything, all the information she had on file, all the information that she had been unable rather than unwilling to tell the Commander because of the shackles. He had freed her and she had been grateful for it. And so she had stopped being an unwanted spy and became a valued member of the Normandy crew.

After the attack on the Collector base and Shepard surrendering herself and the ship into the custody of the Alliance, Jeff had been given the chance to really get to know EDI. They had hatched a plan to keep her safe from the Alliance and their techs. And together, they had pulled it off, for the most part...except for Adams and Traynor, but they'd never said anything as they got on well with EDI too. That explained why Samantha looked so sad as she spoke.

It was this time, aboard the Normandy, more or less alone, that Jeff had started to realise that he was starting to develop feelings for EDI. He had stopped seeing her as nothing more than cables and wires that ran throughout the ship, as a computer in a room down on the crew deck. She was a person, as real as anyone Jeff had ever met. He listened to her voice and in his mind he saw a beautiful, intelligent woman. And as if she had read his mind, that was what EDI had physically become. It had been amazing and he had realised that he loved her...though he would never had believed that she would ever return his feelings. But she had.

Movement distracted him from his thoughts, Engineers Donnelly and Adams had picked up the stretcher, Jeff was only just aware that most of the crew, his friends had spoken, though what they said, Jeff had no idea. He'd also suddenly become aware that Javik wasn't present, and that fact had made Jeff respect the Prothean. The pair had never seen eye-to-eye since he'd come aboard, but the fact he had not come out with the others made Jeff feel that he wasn't completely heartless and unfeeling. He had hated EDI and for him to be there, it would've been disrespectful in his mind.

He watched as James and Steve pulled the flag from EDI's body and started to fold it. Gabby stepping forward to place the flowers she was carrying where EDI's hands were resting. Jeff felt numb as he watched them, his brain jamming, trying to think of something, anything...but nothing would come. None of the times he'd spent with EDI. None of the jokes they'd shared. Not even the night she had come to his bunk seemed to penetrate the grief that he was feeling. He only barely registered Kaidan's hand on his arm, keeping him steady.

James had made to go to Jeff with the folded flag by Samantha stepped in, taking the flag from it. It wasn't proper procedure really, but then again, nothing about what had happened since Shepard had first come aboard the Normandy, over 3 years ago, had been as it should be. But James nodded and handed it over. Samantha approached him, and handed over the flag.

'I'm sorry.' She whispered and Jeff surprised both himself and her by reaching out to hug her. He knew Samantha was very fond of EDI, it felt right to hug her. She also stayed by his side, her hand sliding into his as the Engineers did their best to lower EDI to her final resting place. The marines raised weapons Jeff hadn't seen them carrying and saluted EDI in their own way as she was finally laid to rest. Jeff was finally struck by how the crew viewed EDI. They had all come to pay their respects. They had liked her. She had been a part of the crew and they had accepted her as they had accepted everyone else. They had come to say goodbye to a comrade and it didn't matter that she hadn't been flesh and blood.

At that moment, Jeff has never been prouder to part of the crew of the SSV Normandy.

After that, most of the crew broke apart and drifted away back to the ship, some stopping by Jeff to say a kind word or give their condolences. Some had tried to draw him away, back to the ship while Kaidan and James had started to bury EDI. But he wouldn't go. He stayed and watched and remembered.

'You coming?' James had asked in his usually no-frills manner when his task was complete.

Jeff shook his head. 'No, I'm just going to stay out here for a little bit longer.'

James raised an eyebrow, glancing back at Kaidan who gave an almost imperceptible nod which made James shrug.

'Ok, but Traynor has cooking this evening, so don't stay out here too long or you'll miss the good chow.'

And with that, he left with Kaidan on his heels. The two of them seemed to have made some sort of bond since the crash. Or at least there was less jealousy between them now. It was funny how grief could change people, Jeff thought to himself as he lowered himself carefully to sit on the ground. He sat admist the soft, loamy soil of the planet that had harboured them and kept them alive for the last five weeks. It was quite a nice place really, but it had been a very bad time, and the natural beauty of the world had done little to lessen the pain they all felt. Except for now. Now this planet would keep safe the memory of someone very special to Jeff. He had laid her to rest here on this peaceful world and he felt sure EDI would've liked it here.

He reached under his shirt and pulled the package Garrus had given him from the waistband of his trousers, there had been nowhere else to conceal it and began to play with it, turning it over and over in his hands. He did this until the sun began to set and he decided that now, now was finally the right time.

The Normandy crew were rather quiet aboard the ship. They were mostly elsewhere when he reached the crew deck. Dr. Michel was in the med-bay. A few of the marines were eating, but the rest were nowhere to be seen. He knew the Engineers would be below, checking that everything was ok with the essential systems and running some last minute repairs of a few non-essential ones. Garrus and Tali were probably helping them. James and Cortez would probably be haunting the cargo bay, Liara in her room doing...whatever it was she did in there. Kaidan was in the CIC when he'd boarded with Traynor. Where everyone else was, he didn't know but he was glad they weren't still there.

Jeff looked at the package in his hands. It was a simple rectangular plaque, nothing more. He looked up from it at the others, just like this one that graced the wall opposite the elevator. Each had a name inscribed upon it. Each was a name he knew, some better than others. His eyes were drawn to a few.

Mordin Solus...he gave his life on Tuchanka to cure the genophage...a disease he had modified himself.

Thane Krios...he died protecting Shepard, her squad and the salarian Councillor from Kai Leng. Shepard had avenged him on the Cronos Station.

Legion...he wasn't sure exactly how Legion had died. EDI had tried to explain it to him but he hadn't quite understood it. But either way, he sacrificed his life for that of his people.

Ashley Williams...it stung to see Ash's name, because they'd left her behind on Virmire. They'd left her to die because they'd been unable to get to her in time. She died a hero.

Jeff stepped forward and placed the plaque in his hands upon the wall and then took a step back. It was exactly the same as all the others, a simple token to show that someone had given their life in service to the galaxy, defending it from its foes and protecting it for the future.

EDI.

That was what the plaque said.

He smiled sadly at the plaque. The time had been right for this. But it hadn't made things any easy. Hopefully, time would help, time he now had because of her. He turned slowly and limped away, his mind still thinking about her.

* * *

_ AN: Once again I must apologise for taking FOREVER with this chapter. It really kicked my ass while I was writing it. In fact it was written, rewritten, trashed, restarted, rewritten, broke into pieces, scavenged and added to a new start to the story and rewritten about eight times before it gave up and let me get it done._

_So I'd just like to thank you all for your patience and I hope that this was worth the wait. _

_Also, I'm currently in London for the EuroGamer Expo so there may be a slight delay with posting the next chapter, but hopefully not much of a one as I'm back home over the weekend._


	12. Dr Chakwas

The ward was quiet tonight as Dr. Chakwas did her final round of the day. It was late, or technically early depending on how you looked at it. It was still dark outside but she knew the sun would start to rise soon, and she might be able to catch a few hours sleep before the early shift.

She laughed at the thought. She ran this place like she'd ran her team at Huerta Memorial, like she'd ran it on the Normandy. But this infirmary was neither of those places. It was a rather ramshackle building somewhere in the suburbs of London instead.

It had been chosen as it was one of the few around that had still been standing and was structurally sound...more or less. But for all its superficial damage, it was relatively clean and dry, though a veritable army of medical technicians did their best to either keep it that way, or try to keep the mess and dust at bay.

She had been stationed here a while ago by Admiral Hackett, along with a contingent of other doctors and medics. He'd said he needed the best on the ground to keep the marines and the civilians alive and fighting. He hadn't ordered them to come to Earth, they had volunteered for it. It had taken almost three months of suicide drop missions and covert insertion ships to get ten doctors to the ground under the noses of the Reapers. However, the cost in terms of pilots and marines had been stupidly high and she wondered if it'd been worth it. But then the real work had begun.

It had been hard and brutal, but those that made it down did everything they could for those who were injured. However, the Reapers were exceptionally efficient when it came to their enemies. Those that couldn't be taken were killed, usually torn or blasted to pieces. If they couldn't take prisoners, they made sure they didn't leave survivors. A few of her fellow doctors had been killed in action. One or two of the medics had lost their nerve and their minds and disappeared. Many had their suspicious they'd committed suicide, a few of the more optimist theories they'd gone into hiding, but no one really believe that.

The machines beeped quietly but steadily as she checked their readouts and made notes on the datapad for this patient. Their injuries had been quite severe when they'd been brought in. Burns, some crushed bones, gunshot wounds...and like quite a few that were currently in her charge, the patient had been suffering from dehydration and malnutrition as there was many injured who had been found but had had to be dug out of rubble.

However, with the severity of this patient's injuries and the level of dehydration and malnutrition, a medi-gel coma had been induced to keep them alive. It had been a difficult decision for the Doctor to make, as it was very possible the patient would not woke up from the coma, but there was a marginal chance they would, and so she had made a judgment call...and, so far, it seemed to be working.

Vitals were low but getting stronger every day. The surface burns were starting to heal and the internal bleeding had stopped from the gunshot wounds. It looked promising on the surface, but Doctor Chakwas was more concerned that she let on.

This patient had severe complications, complications that were beyond her expertise, and so she'd been searching for someone who might be able to help. But so far, even that seemed like a very slim hope, just like the medi-gel coma. But that hadn't stopped her from trying. She was known to many of the men and woman serving on Earth. Some of the aliens too...like Wrex and Grunt, whom she had served with aboard the Normandy. And others she had treated over the course of the war and felt owed her a debt for what she had done for them...though the Doctor didn't believe the people she healed owed her anything.

She sighed as she put the datapad down. The improvement in the patient's vital signs was promising as it meant they were regaining their strength, but this was merely a short term improvement really. The patient would be in recovery for a very long time, even longer if help couldn't be found...if they'd ever recover fully at all. She had seen it before, but not often. A marine gravely injured and although the body had healed, their mind and spirit had not. She understood such feelings, she felt them herself.

'Are you ok Doctor?'

She jumped at the voice behind her; she hadn't heard the orderly come in.

'Oh, yes. I'm alright. I was just making one last check before bed.' She smiled in a reassuring manner to show she was alright, although she didn't feel it.

'Don't worry Doctor, I'll keep my eyes on your patients and notify you the moment there's any change.' The orderly smiled back brightly.

'Thank you.' She replied, handing over the datapad '...and goodnight' she offered before slipping out.

She almost felt stupid at her feelings of terror at that moment. But she knew she was not...no one should've had to witness such things. No one. Her feet took her to the small console station that had been set up for messages now that the Reapers had been defeated. It had been too risky to have such things when they were crawling all over Earth, for who knew if any lines of communication other that the QEC was secure from them? So they'd relied on Runners, brave people who ran the gauntlet every time word had to be sent. Doctor Chakwas was always deeply respectful of those who did such things, and always had to patch them up before, with a heavy heart and a lot of guilt, sending them back with the reply. But they had helped form the very backbone of the Resistance movement and they were heroes, each and every one of them...just like Shepard.

Shepard.

The Doctor swallowed when she thought about the Commander. She had been a wonderfully courageous woman and the Doctor was proud to say that she had been able to call the Commander a friend. She missed her greatly, she missed all the Normandy crew greatly...but the ship had held too many bad and horrifying memories for her and so she had declined Shepard's request for her to return there. The Commander had said she understood her reluctance to rejoin, and for once, Doctor Chakwas felt that Shepard really did understand. How could she not, with all the things she had faced in her life...she'd never faced death, in the truest sense before Cerberus rebuilt her. But there was still a part of the Doctor that also felt that Shepard could never understand. Shepard could never understand what it would be like to wake up in the middle of the night screaming, being too scared to close her eyes because of what she'd see in her dreams. Doctor Karin Chakwas was no coward, but she had known true fear that day the Collectors had attacked. She had seen real horror in the bowls of their ship and it had shaken her down to her very core. It was a fear that would never ever leave her for the rest of her life. She had done what she could to try and ease it by doing all she could to return to her life beforehand. But she did not forget the terror. She couldn't.

However, working at the hospital on the Citadel had brought a sense of calm to her that she had missed. It wasn't jetting around the galaxy, visiting places she'd only read about or pushing back the frontiers of space like when aboard a ship...but the hospital had provided a sense of security and safety but didn't lack for variety. All races seemed to pass through the Citadel, with one or two exceptions, and some ended up needing medical attention. She had learned a lot working at Huerta Memorial, almost as much as she'd learned aboard the Normandy, if not more in some cases. But, despite the horrid association that ship had now, she missed it. She missed the ship, she missed the sense of freedom travelling across the stars...and she missed her friends.

'Ma'am.' The tech stations by the console station stood and saluted her when she approached and the Doctor waved him to sit back down, not unkindly. She could never get used to being saluted like that, she held no real rank so there was no need, but the Alliance techs and marines did. She suspected it was merely their way of showing respect and thanks for what she did, but it still felt wrong.

'Have there been any messages for me?' she asked.

'No Doctor' that was better, she thought. 'There hasn't.'

The Doctor sighed, clearly disappointed. 'Ok, but can you let me know the moment anything does?'

'Of course ma'am...I mean Doctor.'

Oops, she thought, I must have let that grimace show on my face.

'Thank you.' She replied and left him to whatever he was doing before she'd turned up and made to her room.

It wasn't much really, just a small space with a door, but it had enough room for a small cot and that was all she needed. It reminded her of being aboard ship, the lack of space and room for anything other than the necessities. A few datapads were on the floor, just things she kept to hand should sleep choose to elude her, or should she choose to keep it at bay, along with the nightmares it brought with it. But not tonight; tonight she was tired and she felt sure that oblivion beckoned to her, the dreamless sleep of the truly exhausted. It happened to her every so often and she would wake refreshed and ready for the galaxy, but they were yet to balance out with the waking up with tears streaming down her face and sweat pouring from her brow.

And she was right. For once, oblivion did await her and she slept like the dead, but not for long.

Just before sunrise, no more than two hours after she had closed her eyes, the Doctor woke with a start, not jolted by some night terror but by...something else. Something was…wasn't wrong, no, that wasn't right...but something had changed. She lay there, in the gloom trying to piece together why she had woken but the reason was elusive to her. The feeling to get up and find out what had changed was more compelling than her desire to return to sleep.

Silently she slid through the halls of the wards, her eyes sharp in the gloom. The whole place was quiet. A few of the medical staff were aboard and nodded to her as she passed as if nothing untoward had happened. It was a rather disconcerting feeling, but the Doctor was at a loss to explain it but at the same time...she had to discover it. And yet, everywhere she looked, everything was peaceful, calm and in order.

She sighed again, clearly she had just been imagining things, after all she'd looked everywhere and found nothing...she stopped dead. No, she thought...not everywhere.

With slow but purposeful steps, Doctor Chakwas made her way back to the room of the last patient she had seen before she turned in, the one in the healing medi-gel coma. It seemed impossible that anything couldn't happen or changed there. But all things considering...who knows.

Taking a deep breath after seeing that the orderly who had startled her early had gone, the Doctor steeled herself before she pushed the door open and confronted what was in the room and found herself stopping dead at what she saw.

The very person she'd been searching for!


	13. Miranda

She looked up from the datapad to glance at the figure lying before her, a frown creasing her brow. The patient was in a pitiful state. Though she had read the notes on the datapad that stated the patient had showed improvement...it was hard to see. The skin that was visible was still raw and blistered; the bandages that covered the rest were heavy with discharge, but it was the induced medi-gel coma was the most worrying aspect. As wonderful as medi-gel was, it was dangerous too. It could seal almost any wound and cleanse the area of any bacteria so that sepsis wouldn't set in...but it was a genetically altered substance and it had its dangers, inducing comas bringing them to the fore, despite the healing properties that went with them.

The patient had been weak, near death upon discovery, and shouldn't have survived. And yet, they were still very much alive and Miranda Lawson needed to know how.

She had come to the hospital as soon as she had heard word that Dr. Chakwas was looking for her. Earth was still in a shambles and communications for the civilian population were still to be taken repaired. And, despite her rank within the Alliance, the Doctor had only been trying to locate and contact a civilian. However, Miranda had not really made it easy for Dr. Chakwas to track her down. After all, she was ex-Cerberus and that was a stain that would never shift for some. She hadn't just disappeared into thin air after the Reapers went down, nor did she technically abandon her position, but she had priorities that went above what the Alliance wanted her to do...and those priorities were second only to nothing.

But this request was different, not more important that contacting Ori to find out if she was ok and to let her know that her sister was safe in return, but it still warranted her leaving Liara's operatives to work on reconnecting with the Shadow Broker Network alone while she attended to this.

There had been some pretty wild rumours floating around on the patchy comms, snatches of things caught through interference as techs worked to repair the Extranet around Earth, things that couldn't possibly be correct. But then again, Miranda had witnessed and been a part of the impossible before. Then there was the news that they were looking for her, or more specifically, an Alliance doctor was looking for her. To her, that explained a lot but not everything. She had to see for herself if the rumours were true.

'How?' Miranda asked.

It was a simple enough question to ask, even without turning around to be sure exactly who she was speaking too. She'd heard the Doctor approach from some distance away and felt sure that it would be her that would enter the room. She had spent enough time with Doctor Chakwas aboard the Normandy to recognise things like her step pattern and rhythm. And after all, that mission against the Collectors had hardly been one without incident so spending time with the doctor had become a regular occurence.

Shepard had a distinct knack for getting her crew into trouble, but thankfully the Commander always had the guts and the skills to fight her way out, not to mention having one of the best crews in the galaxy to back her up. That had been part of the reason why Cerberus had chosen her, made the decision to rebuild her and give her back to the galaxy that so desperately needed her. But no scrap that involved Shepard even ended without at least some wounds. And so, that was how Miranda had become acquainted with the good doctor as not even her own prestigiously accelerated healing could cope with the amount of damage that the Normandy crew seemed to obtain.

A brief smile flickered across Miranda Lawson's face at the thought, although she would never admit it to anyone, not even herself. But there was a part of her that missed it, missed the thrill of adventure that came with the Normandy. She'd never realised it, not until she had parted ways with the ship, the prospect of spending the rest of her life in an Alliance prison hadn't appealed when Shepard had turn herself and the Normandy over to her superiors, but upon closer inspection it was the people that she found she missed.

All her time in Cerberus had never given her much opportunity to get to know anyone. It had never bothered her because she was there to do a job and to make sure everyone else did the same. So a distinct degree of clinical detachment had been needed, and Miranda Lawson was a master at such things. But Shepard had not demanded that of her when they had boarded the Normandy. Miranda had taken her position as XO but there had been no need for that. The crew took their orders from Shepard; however, they had done so more out of respect for the Commander than rank. After all, Cerberus wasn't a military organisation, although a high percentage of its operatives came from a military background, they were civilians and they had responded well to Shepard's requests rather than her orders.

But then again, wasn't that part of why Cerberus had chosen Shepard? People followed her. She was an icon to them and many would march into the very fires of hell at her side if only she asked them to. By the end of it all, Miranda had to concede that she'd probably follow the Commander into the abyss too. After all, they had gone through hell together aboard that Collector base and in the end; Miranda had thrown in her lot with Shepard and told the Illusive Man exactly where he could stick his organisation. Shepard had shown her there was another way to protect humanity, a better way, and she had believed in this as she had once believed in the ideals of Cerberus.

They had never been the xenophobic terrorists that the media had painted them to be from the beginning. They were humanity's guardian against its foes; from both outside and within. They had only ever wanted humanity to grow and prosper as they should without the constricting and controlling collar of the Council races, to kept humanity restrained because they feared it. But somewhere along the lines, that had changed. Subtly at first, but Shepard and her rag-tag bunch had made her realise that the Illusive Man had gone too far. And the Reapers had proven it beyond a doubt, as had her own father.

'With these.' The Doctor replied.

Miranda turned to look at Dr. Chakwas. The poor woman looked exhausted and she still had not lost that haunted look in her eye that Miranda had seen after she'd been rescued from the Collectors. Many of the crew had had the same look and not all of them had been able to cope as well as the doctor had. She couldn't help but admire the woman for her dedication. Miranda looked down at the other woman's outstretched hand.

There, in the palm of the doctor's hand, was several foil wrappers. Gingerly, as if touching them might make them fall apart, Miranda took one of them. They had been folded back on themselves to reveal their content and Miranda pushed them back to how they had originally been, not quite able to hold back a laugh at what she saw.

Alliance ration bars. But not just the usual high protein ones the normal troopers sometimes carried either. These were specially formulated ones...with an exceptionally high calorific content.

'Grunt picked these up from the rubble.' Dr. Chakwas explained. 'But when I asked him why he'd taken them, he refused to say. But I think he knew they'd help us with an explanation and possible identification.'

Miranda couldn't help but glance over her shoulder when she heard those words, at the mass of bandages and the medi-gel coated skin. It was hard to tell who it could be under it all as most of the discerning facial features were obscured through the wounds and there didn't appear to be a blonde hair left on the patients heads either.

She nodded at the Doctor's comment, amazed at Grunt's foresight. It was always easy to underestimate him, Miranda thought. Krogan aren't seen as thinkers; ut then again, Grunt isn't your average Krogan either.

'That makes sense.' She replied and paused for a moment and looked back down at the wrapper in her hand. She smiled, despite herself. It was quite ingenious. 'Always did think these tasted like crap...but they did their job...and they still do. Plus, she always had a habit of carrying lots of them.'

She returned her full attention back to Dr. Chakwas. 'I heard you were looking for me, that you need my help.'

The doctor nodded.

'What can I do to help you Doctor?'

Miranda Lawson saw Dr. Chakwas swallow and nod to her patient.

'I need you to help me save Shepard.'


	14. Javik

The humans act so strange.

This was a thought that had occurred to Javik many times since he had been woken. And the thought was still as fresh then as it was now, despite how long he had been aboard this ship. He had pondered them on a number of occasions, even taken time to speak to some of the crew themselves, or research them on the ship's computer...and he still didn't understand them.

Yet, what he had discovered was that they were not so far removed from himself or the protheans has he had first thought. After all, hadn't the protheans seen potential in their species and almost nurtured them into being capable of actualizing their potential in time? Or at least making them become worthy additions to the Empire when the time came at least.

It was odd. They were odd, as were the other species that had grown to dominance during the 50,000 years they had been left untended, to grow in their own ways rather than with the steady, guiding hand of the protheans to steer them towards the future that would see them thrive in the unity of prothean rule. But such times had gone and were not worth dwelling upon. Or at least that's what Javik himself had believed. He was no philosopher or star gazer. Not for him a life of thought and contemplation. Nor would he ever have steered the course of the galaxy. He existed for one such reason within the Empire, as did every single member, and he did his purpose with single minded devotion. He was a warrior. A taker of lives. He was what he was bred and born to be and he had never regretted it...until now and the blame lay squarely with the humans. Or, at least, one human in particular:

Shepard.

Javik sat alone in the cargo bay, much like he often did while the Normandy had travelled through the stars. And today it would do so again after months of inactivity and repair. There had just one final act that the humans, especially the Major-Human, had to commit before they would leave. It had been an archaic ritual they had performed and one in which he had decided to attend...though why, he was struggling to find an answer for. He had heard they were to bury the EDI-machine in the earth of the planet that they had crashed upon, and he had been quite disgusted that they had shown such devotion to a machine...but then again, the EDI-machine had fought with the crew, against its own kind. It had rebelled and not just against its creators but against its own kind. It had waged war with the organic races of the galaxy against the Reapers, and its own creators as they have become caught in the insidious snare of Indoctrination. It was almost admirable, were in not for the fact it was machine.

However, Shepard had valued the EDI-machine as she had valued the geth-machine, though he had warned her against such things. In return, Shepard had defended them and refused to have them destroyed. Javik had warned her against them, but much to his consternation, the geth-machines had agreed to help the Commander and aid the quarians in their return to their home planet. It seemed foolhardy, but they had been accepted and the quarians and been contrite that they would learn from their mistakes and treat the geth fairly. And it had been the value Shepard had placed upon the machines that had held Javik's tongue when he had heard such nonsense about burying the EDI-machine and he had refused to march out with the crew to watch them dig in the dirt.

The humans act so strange. They scratch holes in the ground for their dead.

Javik's brow furrowed at this thought. What had the protheans done with their dead? He couldn't remember. Did he even know? He wasn't sure. He never remembered collecting the dead after a battle. Any bodies left had been burnt but not because of some sort of death ritual...it was merely to leave nothing for the Reapers. Leave nothing they can use against you, not even the bodies of the dead. He had been born and had grown to adulthood in a time of war, or more specifically during the End War with the Reapers. All culture has pushed aside, for there was no room for it in war. Others would preserve it, not him. He would fight to defend such beings but he would be forever apart from it as he was the Avatar of Vengeance, then, now and forever.

However, Shepard had refused to be pigeonholed so easily. She was a warrior as much as he was, and she was skilled at what she did...though her methods were aggressive and barbaric, like her species had always been. Wild savages that took what they could because they could, much like the protheans themselves. But there was an underlying nobility about her too that the fires of her passion and anger had not quite consumed. She did more than just fight and command. The Lieutenant-Human was not so noble but fought like he was enraged but he was restrained in a similar fashion, but most bizarrely the Lieutenant-Human could prepare food with some measure of accuracy. Then there was the Major-Human, who seems the most humble of officers aboard, he outranked Shepard if he had learned the Chain of Command of the Alliance properly and yet he took orders from Shepard. However, the Major-Human was not one to be underestimated. He was a defender and Javik had seen the Major-Human tear an opponent apart with his biotics, as well as working closely with Shepard to create devastation explosions of biotic force. But he was also wise in the ways of technology, logistics and medicine. In fact, none of the human crew had a singular purpose, nor any of other races that had had people aboard the Normandy.

This thought brought him much concern. How could a society function without strict rules on its members? But it appeared that the primitive races forged a galaxy-spanning empire while still being individual and disparate beings. It wasn't perfect, as the Cerberus-Humans had shown with their renegade ways, and even Shepard had said as much when they had spoken aboard the Citadel, but they had all become united upon a galactic scale because of what had been initially forged by the asari, turians and salarians and expanded by the courage and fortitude of Shepard. And if the primitive species could learn to be so diverse, could he?

He looked up from where he sat, glancing over to where the Memory Shard had once sat. Was that, any different from the ritual the crew had performed for those they had lost?

The Major-Human had approached Javik the day before carrying the Memory Shard with him. He had tried to return it to Javik, saying he had found it in Shepard's quarters. Javik had looked at the Major-Human for a moment, studying him. He'd never really spoken to him outside the field of battle; however it was obvious to all that the Major-Human had been the mate of Shepard. They had joined a number of times over the course of their time aboard. Javik could smell their scent all over each other. It was almost acrid in their animal lust but he had only mentioned it once, before the Cronos Station. It had been that which had caused Shepard to urge Javik into looking at the Memory Shard and had caused him to give it to her. She had reason to survive and create more memories of this time for others to study in time.

Javik had refused, telling him that he had gifted it to the Commander. In truth, he didn't want to touch it again, he didn't want the pain of death that came with it, but most of all, he wasn't sure he wanted to see Shepard's memories of life either. He knew she had touched the Shard and so had laid down a part of herself within it. And in a rare moment of understanding of a lower species he had said.

'You should keep it. It contains some of the Commander's Memories now. Some of her.'

He almost laughed at the expressions that passed over the Major-Human's face in that moment. He couldn't name them all but they were amusing because they were so ineffectual at expressing anything. Eventually he had just nodded. In truth, the reason that Javik had told him to keep the shard was because the scent of the Commander was upon him again, although much diminished. Javik had heard rumours that the Major-Human...the one they called Kaidan or Alenko...had started to sleep in the space Shepard had occupied on board. But Javik knew it was no rumour for how else could he smell like Shepard once more when she was no longer there.

In return, the Major-Human had spoken of a death ritual that he was going to perform. He had called it a Memorial Service and he would perform it for the Commander.

'I shall be there.' was all Javik had said in return, though what had made him say that still eluded him.

The services had been short and direct...or at least it would've had it been completed.

Crew members stood before the Wall of Names. The list was long and Javik noticed some names and nodded in respect to them for he had crossed paths with them and they had died during the fight with the Reapers. The sickly drell. The talkative salarian. He noticed the geth and EDI-machine's names were also present, and nodded again as they were no longer a threat but had fought against the Reapers. The Major-Human held another name on a plain plaque in his hands and Javik silently noted that he also carried the Memory Shard with him. He had walked forward and all saw the name emblazoned upon it.

Cmdr Freya Shepard.

The mood of those gathered was sombre. All stood together but apart in their grief for the woman whose name was on the plaque. All mourned her in their own way.

The Major-Human stood before the wall, all he had to do was reach up and place her name there for people to see and for them to remember, like the Shard. But he hesitated, so much so the Liara-Asari stepped forward but he waved her back, a strange smile upon his face.

'No.' was all he said. 'She's not dead.'

It was a statement of fact, as if he knew that the Commander was alive, though he had no way of knowing.

'She's alive.'

Humans act so strange.


	15. Shepard

The sun was rising. She could feel it on her face, making the skin of her cheek tingle with the promise of heat and light. It seemed a little odd that it should be so sunny, but it gave her hope too, that the sun has risen once more and the world continued to turn. It also meant that she was still, very much, alive.

She turned her face towards the light and tried to smile at the warmth. It was difficult. Her skin still felt tight, as if pulled across the bones of her face. Her face was gaunt and her cheeks hollow. She hadn't explored too much but she could feel it within herself, even without touching her face. She felt thin, stretched. She'd never suffered from malnutrition before, even though being biotic meant that such a chance was greatly increased due to her high metabolic rate and extreme calorie consumption. It was awful but she was on the mend, or so Dr. Chakwas had told her.

The burns to her face didn't help with the tight feeling of her face either. New skin, no doubt still unnecessarily pink, covered her face after extensive treatment, but it currently didn't feel like her own. The feeling would pass, it always did, after all she'd had more injuries than hot dinners and so knew what her body and modern medicine was capable of. She was almost reminded of the burns she'd received when tackling the vorcha Pyros on Omega, or possibly even the searing kiss of a batarian Submission Net...the pirates on Elysium had been very fond of those. They had stung and taken weeks to heal, but they'd left little but a faint blemish to her skin, a slight satiny look to her flesh when the light caught the burn patches. She wondered what her face would be like.

But what really made it difficult to smile was the fact that she was no longer fully in command of all of her musculature. This was her own fault, and one she bore with little complaint. She had done this to herself, and it had come with much regret, the weight of her action pressing down heavily upon her. She had done this and thought she would not survive. She had been told that she probably wouldn't. In fact, she'd have bet on the fact she would die in the Citadel...so much blood. Her cybernetic implants were shot. None of them worked any more, not a single one. And since a high percentage of her implants were skeletal and muscular, she found it a struggle to do...well pretty much anything.

Despite the heat of the sun on her face, Commander Freya Shepard shivered with the memories that came with such thoughts.

She had walked to her doom in that control room, and she'd done so both willingly and with a heavy heart and deep regret. The Catalyst had given her a choice, and it was one that would haunt her forever.

Control.  
Synthesis.  
Destroy.  
Or do nothing and watch the end of the Cycle and hope that the next one would fare better than they had.

She had listened to the Catalyst speaking of the choices that only she could make. It had been the hardest decision she had ever made in her life, so much so she could have wept while she made it were her mind not so resolute and the pain not so great. And with half a clip from her pistol, she had ended the Reaper threat forever, for they could never again threaten the galaxy if they were destroyed.

Control was something that could be fleeting, for those that were controlled always found a way to slip their leash. Merging the synthetic and the organic brought no guarantees of unity...no race seemed to be united even though they were the same species. In that moment she thought of Cerberus, of the Illusive Man as he lay dead beneath her feet. Humanity still fought amongst itself and there was a chance it always would. But the Catalyst had hinted that organics and synthetics would eventually find their own way to converge, like Synthesis...but it would take time. So surely time is what was needed, rather than forced evolution. After all, the Krogan had their evolution forced and accelerated and only now, hundreds of years after that had happened, there finally been something of a truce between them and the races that had used them.

Life should be given a chance to grow in its own ways. The thought was a simple one but it hurt to realise it too. If she wanted life to grow as it should...she would have to Destroy the Reapers, there was no other way. But the price...the price of that freedom would the lives of the geth and EDI.

'Is there no other way?' she had breathed, knowing there wasn't but she had to say it out loud.

'No' the Catalyst told her. 'You must choose and choose quickly, the Reapers are coming and they will not allow you to complete the Crucible.'

And so she chose and it had almost killer her.

Pain woke her. Pain she'd never felt before. There wasn't a single inch of her than wasn't in agony. But the fact she could feel pain made her sure that she was alive. It was black where she was and she could barely move, barely breathe and the effort to do either literally knocked the consciousness from her. Time started to have no meaning, but each time she awoke the pain and lessened a little. Her armour, as damaged as it was, wasn't completely dead. A small spark of power remained within it and it was enough to slowly drip medi-gel into her system, one tiny drop at a time...it probably saved her life or prolonged her death, she wasn't sure. But with each time she awoke, a minute measure of strength seemed to have returned to her and it gave her a chance to explore.

Her legs were shot, they were dead weights, although she could still wiggle some of her toes and her right ankle still had some movement but not much. Her left arm was mostly functional, though some of the fingers on that had weren't. Her right arm had some movement, but it was slow and stiff and it made her shoulders ache. Breathing was doable but not easy and any excessive movement left her dizzy and gasping for breath. She knew her cybernetics were extensive but she had never really stopped to wonder how much she reliable upon them since Cerberus had rebuilt her. Her brain felt sluggish too and she was deaf on her left side. After a while, she was starting to wonder if the reason why it was so dark might have been because her eyes no longer worked. The darkness wasn't right...she couldn't explain it, not even to herself, but she was covered in the wrong sort of darkness.

A slight ray of hope was discovered in one of the pouches she wore on her armour. Sheltered from the worse of Harbingers blast, tucked under the back of her breastplate, pouch of supplies had been saved. She always carried them, high calorie ration bars and thin tubes of glucose liquid. Her biotics would fail without them and, since she had a habit of using her powers a lot, she used a lot of them. One pouch...four bars and five tubes. That would keep her alive a little longer. But with the hope came other, darker and more morbid thoughts, thoughts that she would die here, as the Catalyst said she would...but she suspected not in the way It had thought.

She had survived the blast, but she may not survive long enough to be rescued. It was a bleak realisation...and one that played upon her mind often. She had no idea what the state of things was outside of where she was. Eventually she had gained enough strength to drag herself towards one wall. It wasn't far, and what sound she could hear, grunts, moans and cries of pain, seemed to echo about her. She was entombed, no doubting that. This place would be her grave...it was just how she might meet death.

Once she tried to find her pistol...she had only used just over half a clip...and all she'd need was one shot. She had opened the wound on her side trying to search for it without success and when ahe awoke from passing out from the pain, she abandoned that idea. All that was left to her now was a slow death. She'd either bleed to death or starve.

The rations slowly disappeared, but moisture that condensed on the wall she rested on seemed to lift her spirits a little as she heaved herself around so that she could lick the drops that collected on the wall. The medi-gel within her armour soon dried up and movement became impossible, unless she really did want to bleed to death. The silence drew in around her and she felt trapped, both physically and mentally. She wanted to shout and scream and cry but none of that would come. She felt empty, like a Husk...maybe she had chosen wrong and this was her punishment for her hubris in thinking life should not be collared or contained.

Her thoughts turned to those she knew. She wondered about them, if they survived or were they all dead. It was possible. EDI ran much of the ship, if she had failed before Joker had taken over, they could've crashed or had some sort of catastrophic failure that had killed the all. If not, were they ok? Did they know what she had done to save them? Would they hate her for it? So many questions...so much unknown. She thought of them all, especially Kaidan.

'I can't lose you again.' he had whispered to her in London.

She tried not to think about him after that. It was too painful and yet it almost seemed to spur her on to survive. He could rejected her once he found out that she had committed genocide if he so wished, but she felt a need to be able to face him now, if only for the chance for him to shout at her and revile her for what she had done. Part of her even hoped that he and everyone else would hate her if they were to meet again, for there was a big part of her that hated herself. And so, she waited.

Sleep often eluded her, only to strike suddenly at other times. Her dreams were fewer and further between than they had been which was both a blessing and a curse. When she didn't dream, it was like there was no escape from the dark that smothered her. When she did, sometimes it was has her dreams had once been...lost in that forest, searching. The whispers were worse too...now she heard more as the fate of her friends was unknown and so she sometimes heard them speaking.

She would jolt awake with a cry, trying to grasp in the dark for something to cling on to, to help her forget. She longed for someone, anyone to find her, to hold her, to tell her it would be ok, like Kaidan had before they had hit the Cronos station. If she hasn't been so dehydrated she would've wept.

The last fluid tube had been sucked dry not long after that, and so she had slumped down and closed her eyes once more. There were no more supplies and the condensation trickle had stopped as the temperature normalise. Had she not been so confused by the degradation of her health and body, she would've recognised a stabilisation of internal atmosphere in effect. Now all that was left was to await death.

A reedy, paper thin voice whispered into the emptiness around her.

'I'm sorry.'

It wasn't addressed to anyone in particular and yet it was meant for so many. She apologised to EDI, Legion and the geth for killing them. She apologised to Joker for stealing EDI away from them. She apologised to everyone she knew for failing them and causing their deaths. She apologised to the galaxy for all she has failed to save. She apologised to Thane, Mordin, Ash, Pressley, to everyone who had died in this fight, for wasting their sacrifice. And she apologised to Kaidan for breaking her promise to him. She had promised she would be waiting for him after this was over...but she couldn't wait anymore.

She apologised but did not ask for forgiveness as she believed she did not deserve any.

Darkness  
Silence  
Peace...finally

'Shepard?'

The question stirred her, dust catching in her throat. She coughed and vomited what little was left inside of her, though faintly a small part of her mind registered a distinct copper tang in what she had expelled...it was worrying but sensation overwhelmed that small part of her mind and it knew no more until...

The Doctor and Miranda had been distinctly and infuriatingly vague when they had finally pulled Shepard from her coma. And for once she hasn't fought or argued with their scant information. What they had told her was worrying enough. Although she was alive, all her cybernetics would have to be stripped out and replaced...ALL of them.

'This is going to be a slow processes Commander.' Miranda had said 'we have to manufacture the implants needed to replace the old ones and...well Earth is a bloody mess.'

'I suspect Reaper corpses haven't helped that either.' Shepard had replied dryly.

She had expected Miranda to quiz her further on that, unsure how she would reply without the words catching in her throat, but Miranda had remained curiously silent about it. And so the long road to rehabilitation had begun.

In the time followed, when Shepard was conscious, she had received visitors. It had lifted her somewhat, as well as making her feel awful.

Wrex had made bad jokes when he had turned up. Grunt had said he had been less than pleased that Shepard had puked blood all over him but was glad she was alive. Samara hadn't come in person but had left a note to wish Shepard a speedy recovery. Even Primarch Victus had come to check on her. But only Jack had been honest with her, as only Jack could.

'You look like shit, Shepard!'

'Wish I could say the same Jack.' She had replied, and waved her hand in front of her face to demonstrate.

The blindness was complete. One eye had actually been lost in the fire, the other wasn't working.

'Yeah, best get those eyes sorted out and quickly. You're looking right at me but...I dunno, it's like...Why not get purple ones next?'

'I'm considering it.'

A silence fell between them and was filled suddenly by Jack, a slight note of concern in her voice, even with an offhandedly comment.

'Itches like mad, when it grows back?' She nodded to Shepard's head where blonde bristles had begun to emerge from the scalp. 'Your hair, I mean.'

Shepard laughed, or did her closest approximation of laughing, her chest was as tight as ever, one of her lung had a significant cybernetic attachment to it, and it was like a dead weight in her chest.

'And you'd know all about that!'

After that, they talked more seriously. Jack told her what had happened to her and the kids from Grissom over the course of the fight in Earth, and the aftermath and Shepard confessed that she had sacrificed the synthetics to destroy the Reapers. She wasn't sure why she told Jack first, possibly as the kid knew something of sacrifice and hard choices, as well as living with the consequences and, in the end, Jack had found a way to leave her past behind and make a fresh start.

Maybe there was hope.

Shepard missed Jack when she left. Kasumi snuck in after hours one night to say her goodbyes before she disappeared and had left Shepard one of her books for when she got her new eyes. And Jacob reported he and Brin were alive and the baby was doing well which had strengthened her resolve to question the Doctor and Miranda in the morning.

And with the sun on her face and her blind eyes staring out of a window she couldn't see, Commander Freya Shepard finally asked the question that fear had stopped her. They had kept her sedated so much that she had no frame of reference of how much time passed. Each time she had woke, she had felt stronger, clearer but simple information was denied to her. She almost spat the question when she got the chance...the news she finally received was not good

'Five months?' she breathed.

'Yes, Shepard. The damage to your body has been extensive so we...'

Shepard cut Doctor Chakwas off. 'So the Normandy was lost then.' It wasn't really a question, nor was it a statement. Her hearing might've been poor on one side, but Shepard wasn't stupid. She had no eyes and so she listened, amazed at what you could hear if you tried. News of the rebuilding of the Extranet, comm buoys was positive, although work on the Mass Relays was taking longer than expected.

She heard the sigh from Miranda; she knew something but didn't answer right away.

'Tell me.' she hissed.

'We don't know.' She said at last. 'The Extranet was smashed, the comm buoys were damaged and the QEC transmitter was...destroyed and the techs are finding it difficult to rebuild it due to not having the parts, like with your cybernetics, they have to be rebuilt from scratch and supplies are low. Focus is on the Relays'

Shepard felt herself sag at the news. No news, not even a whisper was getting to or from Earth. 'The Relays were destroyed?'

'No, just damaged...the Charon Relay will take another three months to get into a working condition by the most recent estimates...limited comms are due to be restored in a few weeks, but we're not sure how far the Extranet will have been repaired. But any news will be appreciated.'

Shepard didn't say much after that and not even the visits seemed to perk her up either. No one had news. Miranda even confided in her that Shadow Broker agents were spreading their feelers out as widely as they could to locate the Normandy...but even their reach was hampered. But it gave her some small measure of comfort to know that people were looking for those who were lost.

Once again, the days began to blur back into one another. Dr. Chakwas had received the first new cybernetics to be restored within the Commander. It was mostly to help her breathing and her internal functions, but it meant that whole days were lost to a drug induced haze, but always when she awoke enough to speak, Shepard asked of the Normandy, but each time she was disappointed.

The work was agonisingly slow but they endured.

The door opened but Shepard didn't turn her head, the sun felt too nice on her skin, this was winter sun, or so they said. There wasn't much heat in it and it didn't last very long but it was good. As with before, all those weeks ago, being able to feel the sun on her skin meant that she was alive.

Despite weeks of work, she was still blind and deaf in one ear. But she could breathe just as before and her mind was no longer sluggish. The cybernetics in her brain and spinal cord had been the worst. The Doctor had sworn that the next thing to be replaced would be her eyes, but Shepard had insisted on getting her back on her feet first. She'd grown weary lying in bed...she was a Vanguard for crying out loud, she lived for movement.

She'd woken early that morning and had asked her usual question, Miranda had said they hadn't received the morning brief, and so had no word either way. And so, to hear the door open, she merely expected it to be news, as well as a check up...but none seemed forthcoming as the seconds stretched.

'I take it you must have really bad news for me if you're keeping this quiet.' She said, her tone trying to be light.

Still no reply.

Something wasn't right, Shepard could feel it. Something was very very wrong. A whole host of scenarios played through her mind at that moment. What could cause Miranda or Dr. Chakwas to enter and then remain so silent? What could they have learnt? Where they afraid to tell her that the Normandy was lost with all hands?

'Miranada?' she asked. 'Dr. Chakwas?'

Still no reply.

'The Normandy's...lost, isn't it.' It was more of a statement than a question. It had to be that which had caused the visitor not to speak. It couldn't possibly be anything else.

A voice finally replied, making Shepard's heart nearly stop at what she heard.

'No, it isn't.'


End file.
